


AfterLife Incorporated

by charlesss



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Evil Deceit Sanders, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's got magic in it so i'm tagging it lol, Logan Sanders Angst, Logan angst, Logan centric, M/M, Magic, Minor Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, Villain Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:46:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesss/pseuds/charlesss
Summary: Logan Prayan wakes up after allegedly dying and discovers a strange new world full of magic, missions, and miracles. Shocked that he is apparently given a second chance to do good, Logan strives to become the best agent he can be. Though, as he begins to grow used to his new life, he realizes that things are not all as they seem at AfterLife, and there's something that his new friends aren't telling him. Will Logan be able to solve the mystery that is AfterLife Incorporated?Or will he be doomed to a fate much worse than death?(My gift to xx-this-is-a-mess-xx on tumblr for the 2018 Secret Sanders gift exchange!)





	1. Welcome Aboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins!

A lone beam of light shimmered above him, distant and glossy and distorted through the water’s surface. He reached a hand up towards it, but did not meet air like he was expecting. Panicking, he kicked himself up, cleaving through the water quickly - but not quickly enough. The air in his lungs quickly ran out, and, no closer to the surface, he screamed. Great bubbles of air flew out of his mouth and nostrils, floating up and away. Escaping.

 

He reached out further, extended his arms up as far as he could. He gasped in a breath of water, an immediate burning sensation filling his chest. He spasmed violently and the light from above disappeared from view.

 

He felt finally like he was floating, drifting through the horribly vast darkness.

 

Kicking. Burning. Floating.

 

Gone.

 

The man gasped, eyes flying open and arms reaching instinctively to his throat. He launched himself upright, taking several heavy breaths from the effort. The surrounding light seemed to attack his unprepared eyes, and so he forced them shut, still gasping for breath. He sat in darkness then, taking as many slow, deep breaths as he could manage. Eventually, his heart rate began to slow, and within a few seconds, he was barely managing to hold himself up. He curled his fists in tight, taking one more deep breath. 

 

“Got it all out of your system?” an unfamiliar voice asked, sounding mildly concerned. Logan huffed, unable to formulate a verbal response. For the moment, he was a bit too concerned with figuring out what was happening. The last thing he had known was the cold unforgiving depths, the current dragging him downwards, time forcing the air from his lungs…. There was no way he could have been found before it was too late. Not when he remembered that so vividly, especially that ending… He would never be able to get that out of his head. 

 

That being said, what was he doing here?

 

He cracked an eye open, looking towards the source of the voice. A tall (and rather cute, Logan had to admit) man stood there, his faded purple hair falling over tired eyes that seemed to stare into Logan’s soul, judging him for his every thought and action.

 

“Where am I?” Logan croaked, surprising himself with the horrible quality of his voice. He sounded extremely dehydrated.

 

“Don’t worry about the voice,” the man said, seeming to read his mind. He grabbed a thin purple clipboard with a great number of papers on it from a small bedside table and began to jot some things down. “That happens to people when they first wake up here. Anyway, your name is Logan Prayan, and y-”

 

“I know  _ who  _ I am,” Logan grumbled after clearing his throat. The man raised an eyebrow, humming for a moment as Logan swung his legs over the side of the bed he sat on. The man reached out a hand, but Logan refused it. “No need,” he muttered, steadying himself as he stood. He frowned and began to shift his weight between his legs, marveling at the way everything seemed so…. off. It was almost as if he were learning how to walk again, and he placed one foot in front of the other to test this analysis.

 

The man cleared his throat, and Logan looked up, remembering the situation. The look of wonder and confusion disappeared from his face, replaced with a much more somber look of anticipation.

 

“So, what is this place?” Logan asked again, now steadying himself a final time. “Hospital, perhaps?” 

 

A strange look flew across the man’s face, so fast that Logan could’ve sworn he’d imagined it. He shook his head, his fingers tapping against the clipboard.

 

“You’re in a place called AfterLife,” he answered finally, already holding up a hand to silence Logan’s questions. Logan quickly closed his mouth, waiting for him to finish his explanation. “I don’t say that as in the ‘afterlife’, although it is...” the man paused, and again, that strange look was on his face, “...technically that, yes.. AfterLife is more of a corporation, albeit a less secular one than most.”

 

“What do you mean, this is ‘technically the afterlife?’” Logan glared, doing his best to make the look quite murderous. He had a horrible feeling in the back of his mind, which manifested as a foul taste in his mouth. He knew what was going on, he knew that this was…. That he was....

 

The man sighed and held up his clipboard.

 

“Look, do you mind if I explain as we walk?” he asked, clicking his pen absentmindedly. Logan stared at it, watching the man’s twitching thumb with a cold, calculating gaze. “We’re already behind schedule as-is, I can’t afford to sit around and explain everything before we head off.”

 

“Fine,” Logan narrowed his eyes. “But I had better get an exceptionally good explanation.”

 

“You probably won’t,” the man sighed, opening the door to let Logan into the hallway. Logan stepped out, not letting the man out of his sight. “I’m Virgil, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

 

Logan did not respond at first, but after a moment, he let himself relax a little. Virgil seemed alright, even if he was confusing and seemingly disinterested in anything Logan had to say or ask. “It’s nice to meet you, too, I suppose,” he admitted quietly, missing the small smile Virgil hid into his sleeve. Perhaps he would come to tolerate this man, at the very least.

 

°•°

 

“And this is the cafeteria, or mess hall, or whatever you want to call it,” Virgil finished, stopping outside of a room with two large glass walls that happened to be against the hallways. Inside, Logan could see tables full of people, all in attire similar to Virgil’s and his own, eating and talking amongst one another. Some movement inside caught his eye, and he found himself staring at a specific group of people, seven or eight of them crowded around a small table.

 

He watched them for a moment, observing the way they seemed to be getting along. They talked in groups of two or three, though their conversing seemed to join together after a moment as a man in white and red stood up and began to speak, the entire group focusing on him. Something about the over-the-top way he spoke, flailing his arms about for emphasis, set off an unfamiliar (and honestly unpleasant) pang in Logan’s heart. He remembered sharing many late-night conversations with his sister in which they would both grow passionate in the same way the man in white was.

 

He didn’t notice that he had stepped closer to the glass until he saw his own reflection staring back at him, his eyes more sad than they had any right to be. He coughed and stepped back, watching the glass fog up at the puff of air. Virgil said nothing during the entire sequence, just watched him with a very similar expression (not that Logan would have noticed it in the reflection or anything - no, not at all).

 

“Is that the entire facility?” he asked, tearing his eyes and thoughts away from the business of the cafeteria and turning to face Virgil once more. Virgil nodded, and Logan nodded to himself, scratching the back of his neck. “It seems...” he paused, unsure how to put it. A wave of emotions washed over him in his search for the right word, the right phrase, to make his confusion and pain known. If all Virgil had said was true, he really had drowned that night, he really had… died. He was truly gone, just a soul now, caught in the tides of fate to be carried elsewhere. By saying what he wanted to, he would be admitting that, he would be confirming it to be fact.

 

_ “Before your time,” he heard one of his mothers laughing as she ruffled his hair. “You’re just before your time.”  _

 

_ Oh, in more ways than one, _ Logan thought now, eyes still locked onto Virgil’s as his thoughts wandered aimlessly through his mess of a mind.

 

“It seems what?” Virgil asked, finally reeling him back in. Logan shook his head and then shrugged. 

 

“Small,” he finally muttered. Virgil gave him a strange look, similar to the one Logan had seen flash across his face before, but now it stayed, now it questioned. Logan just shook his head again. “I mean, if we’re all just souls, just dead people...” the words felt wrong on his tongue. For a living mind to accept that it no longer belonged to a living body… it was wrong. It was impossible, and Logan hated it.

 

“Why can’t it be bigger?” Virgil finished, and Logan nodded, glad that he didn’t have to explain it further. Virgil sighed, now clutching the clipboard close to his chest. “I guess… It takes up a lot of energy, to give this place corporeal form,” he managed, his fingers tapping on the deep purple plastic. Logan watched them, not failing to notice how Virgil began taking deep breaths in a similar rhythm.

 

“That makes sense,” Logan said, even though it totally didn’t. It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t need to matter, he couldn’t change it if he wanted.

 

_ “You’re dead, Logan,” Virgil said quietly, his footsteps echoing down the long hallway from Logan’s room. “You died and you came here, to AfterLife.” _

 

_ “No,” Logan laughed, heart pounding in his ears. He shook his head, blinking back tears as he spoke. “You’re joking.” _

 

He could only do what he was here for, then. Be an agent, save people, all that hero type stuff Virgil had mentioned on the tour.

 

“Are you alright?” Virgil asked, his fingers stilling against the clipboard. Logan sighed, then nodded, slipping a smile onto his face. If he was going to be honest, the answer was a resounding “no.” He had never been less alright in his entire life, and now he would never have the chance.

 

“I will be,” he offered, clutching his right arom to his chest. “I might not be right now, but… I want to be.”

 

“You want to be... okay?” Virgil questioned, raising an eyebrow. Logan shook his head.

 

“I want to be a hero,” he admitted. “Or, an agent, whatever it is you would call the people here,” he amended quickly, noting Virgil’s confused expression. “I’m afraid, and I’m not sure I completely understand why I, of all people, was chosen to be here… But I’ll make it work. I want to make it work.”

 

“I’m glad,” Virgil said, a tight smile on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before looking towards Logan again. “Well, welcome aboard, Logan.”

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, a weight lifting off his chest. “‘Welcome aboard.’”


	2. Training Montage: Part One of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan begins his training with Roman and Virgil.

Logan reached out to turn on the lamp, pausing as his fingers met nothing. He inhaled sharply as memories rushed back, and reached out to feel the unusually empty air, dreading the moment where he would find was he was looking for. His finger brushed against a smooth, curved surface, and he glanced over to see his hand barely lit by a soft blue glow. He gingerly placed his hand down on the smooth surface of his nightstand, curling his fingers under his palm until he had made a fist. He held his muscles taut for a moment before letting them relax onto the table, only to repeat the process a few more times.

 

“Lights,” he muttered, still flexing his hand against the table. The soft glow of the night lights illuminated the barren room, and Logan relaxed to see it, blurry as it was without his glasses. It was still a shock, waking up here, but he was growing used to it. After the first three days, he had been allowed his own room, though he wasn’t given anything to decorate it with.

 

“That comes from training victories and mission rewards,” Virgil had explained with a shrug. “Everyone’s walls are a little bland for the first few months.”

 

And it was fine. Logan liked the minimalist lifestyle - he wasn’t ever able to commit to it, but he admired it. His moms had always taught him to save things whenever possible, as you never knew when something might need replacing or might be necessary later. Being dead, though, Logan didn’t have anything to worry about in that regard. Perhaps he could grow used to this, though he would have to admit that it was a bit strange now.

 

Logan scanned the room, taking inventory of the few objects he did have. Dresser, prefilled with uniforms in his size. Bed, with dark blue sheets and two pillows. Nightstand, with an extra pair of glasses in the top drawer and a small notebook in the bottom. Alarm clock, plain as possible, reading 5:38 A.M., no date given. Desk, with notebooks and other assorted papers in the left drawers and office-like supplies in the right drawers. One desk lamp, blue like his sheets. And then himself, covered in sweat and sitting upright in the bed, curling his fist over and over on the nightstand.

 

He let his hand relax on the nightstand, though he was now too awake to try and relax into a sleep-like state. Besides, it was getting close to 5:45, any minute now, his alarm would be ringing, telling him to get up and face the day laid out before him.

 

At the exact same time that the alarm went off, there was a knock at the door. Logan slammed his fist on the alarm clock, silencing that, and hopped up to answer the door. He smoothed down his shirt right before the door slid open, though felt a bit underdressed when a fully clothed Virgil looked him up and down and complimented him on his pyjamas.

 

“Flannel,” he noted, pointing at Logan’s slippers. “Fancy.”

 

“I am glad you think so,” Logan muttered, clasping his arms behind his back. Virgil smiled, almost like he was biting back a laugh.

 

“Well, I wanted to make sure you were up - we have a bit of a long day ahead of us,” Virgil said, clearing his throat. “You’re going to get to meet your training instructor, and we’ll be taking you on a mission to observe specific techniques.”

 

“Mission?” Logan asked, grabbing his glasses from his nightstand. Virgil nodded, then stepped back into the hallway.

 

“I’ll explain that more later,” he said, watching as Logan carefully slid his glasses onto his face. “For now, just focus on getting dressed and ready for the day. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria, yeah?”

 

“Alright,” Logan nodded, giving Virgil a quick wave before shutting his door. He hesitated a moment, then pulled open the dresser and picked out a simple outfit (not very hard, seeing as everything was uniform). He barely bothered to throw his pyjamas on the bed, only deciding to do so as not to ruin the otherwise spotless floor. He took a moment to run down to the bathroom and comb his hair back, but otherwise decided to skip any grooming he would’ve otherwise obsessed over.

 

Finally, he pulled the small notebook from his bottom dresser drawer and slipped it in his (surprisingly large) pocket. The he was gone, speed walking down the hallway towards the cafeteria. Idly, he wondered what his training instructor would be like, if they would be overly aggressive, calm and calculated, or laid back and (as they say) “chill.” How many missions would they have gone on? Would Logan be any good at missions? What would they do if he wasn't?

 

...what exactly were the point of missions? Logan frowned as he walked, fingers twitching at his sides. Virgil hadn’t yet explained what AfterLife agents actually  _ did,  _ other than a vague “save people and get back to base” line in his original tour spiel. Logan was eager (read: nervous) to hear about the contents of missions. Perhaps they were all different, meaning Virgil couldn’t have explained the concept of missions without explaining each individual mission he’d gone on. Logan was intrigued by these thoughts, to say the least.

 

At last, Logan reached the cafeteria, the room about half full as people made their way to breakfast. Logan squeezed through the small crowd of people by the door, moving towards the pile of trays and utensils. He grabbed one of everything, just in case, and went through the line, carefully selecting the best options for a long day of physical activity with his training instructor.

 

Once he had everything, he scanned the half empty room, quickly locating the only person he knew. He hastily made his way towards Virgil, taking the spot to his left at the table. Virgil raised an eyebrow, not looking away from the datapad in his hand. He took a bite of cereal, and only then did he look up and acknowledge Logan’s presence.

 

“You sure took your time,” he joked, taking another bite. Logan rolled his eyes and began salting his eggs. “You mind if I borrow that when you’re done?” Virgil asked as another figure approached the table. A man in a white and red version of the AfterLife uniform sat down on Virgil’s right, and Logan shrugged.

 

“Feel free,” he said, passing the salt over to him.

 

“‘Morning, Virge” the man said, though Virgil did not respond. He picked up the salt shaker, and Logan watched as he poured the entire thing into his cereal, and, without flinching or breaking eye contact with the new man, ate a huge spoonful.

 

“Morning, Roman,” he finally said, his tone quite a bit cheerier than Logan had ever heard it. “How’s your day going?”

 

“I have no words,” Roman said disgustedly, scooting away from Virgil, who only laughed. Logan found himself chuckling under his breath, much to his surprise. Roman only just then seemed to realize he was there, and he looked upon him with an inquisitive eye. 

 

“Hello,” Logan said, not bothering to reach a hand across the table. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

“New?” Roman asked, a sad edge to his tone. Virgil nodded somberly. Logan just looked between the two, confused as to the sudden shift in atmosphere.

 

“Recruit,” he muttered. Roman nodded, and Logan couldn’t help but notice the way he stiffened slightly, not to mention how he completely ignored his greeting. Perhaps Roman wouldn’t be such a pleasure to be with, but hopefully he wouldn’t see him around too much.

 

“Oh, Logan,” Virgil began, a bit louder now than before. “This is your training instructor, Roman. You two will be spending the next couple weeks together as he teaches you how to work with your abilities.”

 

Logan wanted to bang his head against the table in frustration, but compromised with himself by simply eating his eggs in silence. He noted that they didn’t have enough salt, but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t fix that now.

 

“Here,” Virgil passed him another salt shaker. “I saw that face you made there.”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Logan re-salted his food, though still avoided Virgil’s gaze. 

 

“Roman, I’ll be on the training deck if you need me,” Virgil gathered his dishes onto his tray and stood up, already moving towards the trash bins. “I’ll see you at 7:00, then?”

 

“Right,” Roman nodded, “7:00.”

 

Logan took note of the time, and, seeing that it was already 6:24, quickly finished his food and made his way to the other trash bins, one hand curled around the notebook in his pocket. In life, he had known nothing stranger than this new world he found himself in, so he would be doing what he did best. He would write it all down, every last detail.

 

°•°

 

By the time 7:00 rolled around, Logan had run out of things to note. He didn’t know too many details about AfterLife yet, just the basics, and trying to pull on any past experiences here wouldn’t be helpful. He figured it would be better to start his training before recording anything else, and perhaps when was done, he’d have more to add to the annoyingly blank pages in his pocket.

 

He already had some ideas on what to write upon entering the training deck, what with its massive ceilings and expansive walls. The room was much larger than any other Logan had been to so far, though it, too, sported the sleek white, grey and blue color scheme of all the other areas. He found himself standing in the doorway just looking around the room, taking it in. 

 

“Big, isn’t it?” Virgil spoke up from behind him, and Logan whirled around to greet him. Virgil smirked and stepped past him into the room. “I had pretty much the same reaction when I first saw it,” he looked around the room fondly, and after a moment, a hint of something, perhaps sadness, started to bleed into his expression. “He really outdid himself on this one.”

 

“Who, Roman?” Logan asked, his head cocked to the side. Virgil shook his head.

 

“No one, don’t worry about it,” he waved his hand a bit, fending off Logan’s question with a smile.

 

“Were you speaking of me?” Roman’s booming voice filled the space around them, and Logan almost jumped from the sudden noise.

 

“Eh, not really,” Virgil grinned, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulder, pouting when he shrugged it off. “Come on, Princey, let’s get this party started.”

 

“I wouldn’t call it a party, per se...” Roman huffed, straightening his shirt. He grabbed a staff from a large rack of weapons next to the door and began walking further into the room. Virgil motioned for Logan to follow and set off behind him.

 

“Why does this room need to be so big?” Logan found himself wondering aloud, once again enraptured by the size of the training deck. Ahead of him, Virgil chuckled and Roman ran a hand through his hair, seeming exasperated.

 

“Well, sometimes we do training games in here, with all the available agents,” Roman began, turning so he was walking backwards. “It’s a great way to get to know the others, as well as develop teamwork skills with all of them.”

 

“We’ve got one coming up in about a week, Logan,” Virgil pitched in, barely turning his head to speak over his shoulder. “This one’ll be a strategy game, so I can bet whichever team picks you will win rather quickly.”

 

Logan hid his smile (and rather deep blush) by pretending to rub at one of his eyes. Roman gave him an odd look, but Logan waved it away once the red in his cheeks had subsided.

 

“Got some dust in my eye,” he explained, straightening his shirt. Roman smiled, then turned back around to face forward. By now, they had reached one of the solitary corners of the room, which was only about the size of two gyms mashed together (still rather large, especially by Logan’s standards). Roman waved a hand towards the center of the room and two white walls rose up from the floor. Virgil yelped as one began to rise from under his foot, and Roman earned a quick (but hard) punch on the shoulder.

 

“Ow,” Roman muttered, gritting his teeth. After a moment, he lowered his hands, leaving the trio in a considerably smaller room. Logan could only stare as the walls shifted on their own, clicking into place.

 

“Alright, let’s get started,” Roman said, clearing his throat. He raised his staff, holding it out to a bewildered Logan. “This is not necessarily an easy weapon to learn, but it’s a very useful one and I would suggest you familiarize yourself with it.”

 

Logan tentatively took the staff in one hand, nearly dropping it as he realized how heavy it was. Not too cumbersome, but it was hardly light. Once he had a firm grasp on the weapon, he looked up, only to see that Roman was holding his own staff. Glancing to the side, he could spot Virgil leaning on the wall, watching the two intently.

 

“Am I going to be fighting things with this?” Logan asked, inspecting the long white weapon. Roman shrugged.

 

“If you like,” he said. “This is the first weapon you’ll be learning to use, of course, but you can trade it out for something flashier once you’ve learned the basics,” he elaborated, twirling the staff in his hand absentmindedly. “Anyway, we’ll be starting with balance work and a few basic striking patterns.”

 

“Like, at the same time…?” Logan winced, raising the staff and turning it over in his hands. Roman let out a boisterous laugh, then shook his head.

 

“No, no, balance should always come first,” he explained, holding his own staff out in front of him. “You should always get a feel for your weapon before you try to start even the most basic of training.”

 

“Alright,” Logan said calmly. “Show me.”

 

For the next hour and a half, Roman would help Logan to get used to his staff and instruct him on the three basic strikes. Once Logan had gotten those down, he would demonstrate them to Roman and Virgil, using them to attack Roman (and would get increasingly upset as Roman would block his blows, seemingly without breaking a sweat). 

  
“You’re really working him down to the bone,” Virgil commented, throwing a very sweaty Logan a towel. Logan grabbed it wordlessly, his chest heaving as he wiped his forehead and hands off. Roman just shrugged, finally setting down his staff.

 

“You were the same way with me, weren’t you?” he walked over to join Virgil on the wall, pulling a water bottle out of thin air. He took a quick swig from it before tossing it to Logan, who barely managed to catch it with his still somewhat damp palms.

 

“Thanks,” he wheezed, unscrewing the cap and taking a giant drink. He relaxed once his thirst had been quenched, though was quite surprised to see that he had downed the entire bottle in less than twelve seconds. Virgil watched with a raised eyebrow, then turned to Roman, shaking his head.

 

“You’ve got to be done for today,” he ordered, picking up Roman’s staff. He held out a hand and Logan’s own weapon came flying to meet it. “We need to get to mystic arts training before we can take you on a mission,” he addressed Logan this time, reaching his hand out for the empty water bottle. Logan handed it over, now intrigued by the sudden display of magical-like powers.

 

“Is that what that just was?” Logan asked, staring at the staff in Virgil’s hand. He nodded, a tiny smile finding its way onto his pale face.

 

“Let’s take a half hour break,” Roman suggested, raising a hand to collapse the walls. “That should give each of us time to get cleaned up.”

 

As the walls retracted into the floor, Logan couldn’t help but notice all other rooms that had popped up around the training room, and a few people standing outside their own makeshift room. Roman waved at them all, and a few people called out to greet him, while others slunk away sheepishly. Logan realized with a start that all the other walls in the training deck were see-through, almost as clear as glass. He felt his face going red as he wondered whether or not these people had been watching him fail at attacking Roman over and over, though the answer seemed quite clear to him by now.

 

“Meet us back here at 10:00,” Virgil told him as they finally got the exit. Logan nodded, his hand already reaching toward his pocket. He quickly pulled out his dark blue notebook, eagerly jotting down the things he’d learned in training. He did a few quick drawings of the diagonal towards southeast and southwest strikes, illustrating the correct motions with stick figures. He almost didn’t notice when he neared the living quarters, nearly walking right past his own room.

 

He was finished with his shower by 10:17, and was redressed and ready to go back to the training deck at 10:21. He placed his notebook and pen in the pocket of his clean pants and decided to head down early, possibly to catch Virgil there. A quick conversation with him would be nice and refreshing after nearly two hours of physical activity.

 

Logan fiddled with the collar of his shirt as he walked, finding himself uncomfortable with the garment. This wasn’t the first time this had happened since he’d… arrived here, but this might have been the most notable episode. He realized as he neared the training deck once more that he missed his ties, the constant weight around his collar and on his chest. He felt almost bare now that he was without it, though he had to admit a tie was hardly practical for training of any sort. Still, he found himself wishing he could incorporate it into his uniform somehow, perhaps adopt heavier necklaces or pendants as a more practical alternative…

 

Seeing Virgil waiting outside the training deck snapped him out of his thoughts, though his hands remained clasped around the collar of his shirt. Virgil help up a hand in greeting, though did not look up from his datapad as he spoke. Logan situated himself next to him, leaning on the wall and pulling out his notebook. He turned to a stray page and doodled idly, checking the time on his watch every few minutes.

 

10:25.

 

10:27.

 

10:28.

 

10:30.

 

Logan looked up to see Roman jogging down the hallway, looking almost upset. He cleared his throat for Virgil’s attention, then shot the man a look when he glanced up. Virgil sighed and led the trio into the training deck, and Logan disregarded the odd transaction between the two as he prepared for whatever was to come.

 

Roman led them to the corner once again, this time skipping over the rack of weapons near the entrance. He raised the walls in the same place as before, and Logan idly wondered how many people were watching them now. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, as Roman was already handing him a large blue gemstone.

 

“What is this?” he asked, inspecting the thing for any meaning.

 

“That’s a power stone,” Roman explained. “You don’t need them to use your powers, but they’re a natural enhancement tool that can help beginners learn to find and control their abilities.”

 

“A power stone,” Logan repeated, staring at it. “Seems… familiar.”

 

“The name? That’d be because-”

 

“No,” Logan interrupted, an odd feeling rising in his chest. “The stone itself seems familiar. Like… Like I’ve seen it before.”

 

“It can have that effect on people,” Roman nodded. “Especially those more prone to the mystic arts, like yourself.”

 

“That’s why you’re here,” Virgil chimed in, giving Roman a rather grave look. Roman sighed, returned the look, and turned back to Logan. 

 

“Anyway, the stone can help with getting your powers to manifest, which makes it a great stepping stone if you’ve never even realized you had powers before adulthood,” Roman continued. 

 

“What powers do I have, exactly?”

 

“Well, it varies from person to person, but generally, you’ll have some sort of elemental specialty, as well as a few additional powers on top of that. For example, I work well with fire, but I can also summon small to medium sized corporeal objects into physical settings.”

 

“How would I go about using this, then?”

 

“First, you’ll want to close your eyes and focus on the stone. You can focus on the familiarity of it, or the feel of it in your hand, or the color and vibrancy of it - anything that gets you to concentrate on the stone in your mind will work.”   
  


Logan closed his eyes then, squeezing them shut behind his glasses. He rolled the stone around in his hand, feeling the rougher edges, questioning the cold emanating from its surface. He felt it whisper in his mind, and he listened, unable to decipher the overlapping thoughts.

 

“What next?” he asked through gritted teeth.

 

“You reach out to it, while, at the same time, reaching within yourself. The contact with the power of the stone mixed with your own determination to bring out your powers should be enough to awaken them.”

 

Logan remembered that strange feeling in his chest. He reached out to the whispers in his skull, challenging the stone to speak up. Challenging it to be louder, to show itself in its true form. No hiding behind whispers, behind cryptic lines and gemstone minds. 

 

The pressure in his chest increased, as if a hand were wrapping itself around his torso. Strings of unknown power wrapped around his body, but he did not give in, would not let them pull him apart.  _ This is all you, kid, _ he thought, though the voice that spoke his thought was not his own. It was not the voice of the whispers, either, but something, no some _ one _ else.

 

He gasped as the force tugged at his heart, as the whispers in his ear grew to a cacophony of screams, and his eyes flew open.

 

Roman and Virgil were nowhere in sight. Instead, the area in front of and around him was covered in ice. It stuck to the wall, to the corner of the training deck, and reached the false ceiling, where it branched out and hung down in great icicles.

 

The stone fell from Logan’s hand, barely making a sound as it hit the floor. He held the offending hand to his chest and stepped back. Immediately, he bumped into another body, slightly shorter than him, and he whirled around, almost falling back into the ice.

 

_ The walls,  _ he thought. He stared past the concerned faces of his mentors and looked instead at the unassuming white walls, the ones he  _ knew  _ were see-through from the other side. How many were watching right now? Would there be a crowd outside, determined to discipline him for hurting the others? How soon would the walls drop, leaving him vulnerable to their inevitable attack?

 

Logan squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.  _ You’re okay,  _ he thought.  _ You’re fine. They’re fine. Everything is fine.  _

 

A hand touched down almost weightlessly on his shoulder, and his eyes snapped open. Virgil’s eyes met his own, large and deep and caring.

 

_ Breathe,  _ he mouthed. Logan nodded and took another deep breath, following Virgil’s hand pressed against his heart. After a moment, sound seemed to return, slowly at first, and then all at once with a great ringing in his ears. Logan winced, turning down Virgil’s outstretched hand. He managed to pull himself up and he dusted off his shirt, avoiding Virgil’s concerned gaze.

 

“I… apologize,” Logan began, his voice wavering a bit. “For getting so emotional, and for the outburst with the ice. It wasn’t intentional, and I can-”

 

“It was impressive,” Roman cut in. Logan turned towards him, shocked, and saw him apparently inspecting the ice on the wall. “Not even melting yet. This is incredible power, not the kind you get from simply using a stone,” he turned to face Logan, a huge smile spread across his lips. “You have nothing to apologize for or worry about, Logan. I’m very impressed with you, and I want you to know that while it’s okay to panic, you actually did wonderfully.”

 

“You mean, I was s-supposed to…” he gestured at the wall of ice, which was lowering the temperature of the room more by the minute. Roman just shrugged.

 

“Well, not really,” he began. “But you weren’t…  _ not  _ supposed to,” he added hastily, seeing Logan’s expression drop even more. “Does that make any sense?”   
  


He shook his head.

 

“I think what Princey’s trying to say is that while we weren’t expecting you to awaken your powers so quickly, it wasn’t a bad thing that you did,” Virgil explained, now leaning on one of the artificial walls. “It just means you’re either very powerful, very in-touch with your powers, or possibly both.”

 

“So, it was a a good thing?”

 

“It was a good thing.”

 

Logan smiled wearily. “Well, I suppose I don’t have to worry about that then. But, what about my…” he trailed off again, unable to finish.

 

“Roman turned off outside visibility when you dropped the stone, so if anyone was watching, they’re not watching now,” Virgil assured him. He let out a breath of relief, now feeling rather exhausted. It wasn’t even 11:00 yet and he already wanted to go back to sleep.

 

“Y’know what, I think that’s enough for now,” Roman decided, likely sensing Logan’s distress. “We were planning to take you on a mission to demonstrate more advanced skills, but you should get some rest before we decide on that.”

 

“I want to,” Logan said before he could stop himself. Virgil and Roman’s eyes snapped up, both looking surprised (though Virgil looked equal parts surprised and worried). “I mean, if I can get some rest beforehand, of course, and you’re still willing to take me… Then I’d like to come along.”  _ It may help me to learn to control these powers better.  _

 

“Absolutely not,” Roman shook his head. “You should be resting.”

 

“Once I’m rested, I can come along and-”

 

“You’re obviously worn out!” Roman interrupted,  gesturing at Logan. “You’re barely standing right now. No one in their right mind would let anyone, even someone in otherwise peak condition, go fight monsters like this.”

 

“I’ll just be watching you two, won’t I?” Logan seethed, clenching his trembling fists at his sides. 

 

“Look, if you think you’re up to it by 6:00, we can talk,” Virgil stepped between the two, facing Logan. “If you’re not feeling rested enough by then, you’re not coming, but if you’re feeling better, you can tag along. Deal?”

 

“Deal,” Logan grumbled. “I’m going to head back in my room until then.”

 

“You want me to bring you lunch?” Virgil asked. Logan shook his head, picking up the power stone. He handed it to Roman, who pocketed it quietly.

 

“I’ll just eat something before we go.”

 

_ “If  _ we go,” Roman reminded, now working on collapsing the walls and ceiling. They fell away rather quickly, and the trio split apart in three seperate directions.

 

“When,” Logan muttered, already trudging across the training deck. A small crowd began to gather around the accidental ice sculpture in the corner, whispering to one another about it. He did his best to ignore them all as he made the short-ish walk back to his room, though it seemed much longer due to his sluggishness.

 

When he finally made it back, he collapsed on his bed, barely managing to pull off his glasses before a wave of exhaustion hit him. He groaned and set his alarm to 5:00, then rolled over and faced the wall. Within minutes, all was quiet, and knew sleep once more.


	3. Training Montage: Part Two of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan goes on his first mission.

The water swished around his ankles. He stared at it, shivering as it soaked through his shoes. Ahead of him, an unfamiliar man stood, his hands curled carefully around a violin. He raised it to his shoulder, placing the bow gently on the strings. Logan stepped forward, and the man began to play.

 

It wasn’t a tune Logan recognized, but somehow, it reminded him of home. He swayed along to the tune, hardly noticing the water rising to his knees.

 

He took another step forward, and the E string snapped. The violinist winced but kept playing, now shifting higher on the A string to make things work. Logan listened, growing uncomfortable as the higher notes grew more and more out of tune. He stepped forward once more, and another string snapped. Still, the man played on his instrument, now looking quite concerned. 

 

“Please,” he muttered under his breath. “Please, just let us handle it. Let them handle it. You’re going to break it, all of it, all of this...”

 

Logan began to move forward again, the water now up to his waist. The D string snapped this time, and the man was left with one final string. The melody was much simpler now, and because of this, Logan could hear whispering in the distance. It seemed to grow the longer he listened, and he grew to understand that he had done this. He was at fault.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. The water was now up to his torso, but he didn’t care. He took a slow step back, and as he did, something remarkable happened. The G string, all alone now, grew in size, reaching out to the broken D string. The violinist smiled, tears streaming down his face, as the broken string mended itself, and he resumed playing as soon as the G string was back in place.

 

The water was at his neck now, but that didn’t bother either of them. Logan stepped back again, and the water rose to his chin. The man smiled, soft and bittersweet. He continued to play as the water rose around them, only putting his instrument down when he was fully submerged. He placed it in a box at his feet, moving so quickly that Logan had to wonder if the water was real at all. The man nodded at him, mouthed a quick thanks, and stepped into the box. By the time Logan made his way over to it, weighed down by the rising waters, he found that it was empty, and endless, and filled with hope.

 

He closed the lid, and all the water rushed out of the room. He took a deep breath and opened the box again. In the bottom, dripping wet, sat the blue power stone.

 

He closed the box again, stepping back. From somewhere very far away, he could hear a violin playing.

 

°•°

 

Logan awoke dripping wet, his bedsheets covered in sweat. He didn’t bother to dwell on it, nor did he attempt to remember his dream, already drifting from his memory. Instead, he kicked his sheets away and sat up, then pulled on his glasses. His watch read 4:54, so he cancelled his 5:00 alarm on the alarm clock and stood up to stretch. After changing his clothes for the third time that day, he set out to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

 

He couldn’t it as he got lost in his thoughts while walking through the facility. So much had happened in such a short time that it almost seemed unreal. No, it definitely seemed unreal. Logan had always been a fan of science fiction, so he saw almost immediately how this new scenario seemed as if it were ripped straight out of a comic book.

 

If it weren’t for the definite sapience he had maintained in the past week, he would have pegged the whole thing as a dream, a long and wonderful and horrible nightmare. As it was, he could only accept that it was real and move on, which was easier said than done.

 

Logan didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to the cafeteria until he nearly collided with someone just outside of it, a somewhat tall person with short brown hair and striking blue eyes. They yelped and jumped back as Logan approached, which finally snapped him out of his thoughts -  though not soon enough to avoid collision, it seemed. He gasped as he tripped over his feet, bumping into the person ahead of them, sending the both of them to the floor.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasped, quickly jumping to his feet. He reached a hand out, feeling a little bit better when they took it. “I should have been more careful, I apologize-”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” they said, smiling slightly. “It’s no big deal, happens all the time.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, some of the people around here aren’t exactly known for being careful,” they explained, adjusting their shirt. “I’m Mica, by the way.”

 

“Logan,” he nodded. “I suppose that it was nice running into you.”

 

“Literally,” Mica smiled. “Well, I won’t keep you. See you around, Logan!”

 

They continued past him down the hallway, and Logan quickly dismissed them from his mind. He entered the cafeteria and grabbed a tray, loading it with the first food he saw. Not seeing Virgil or Roman anywhere, he sat down at an empty table. Not many others were eating, though there did appear to be a few people scattered throughout the room. He wondered briefly where everyone else was - surely they couldn’t all be training or sleeping, as he had spent the day. There would have to be other jobs around the facility as well as the recreational areas, which Virgil had mentioned on his first day, and activities, like the training games he had mentioned a few days ago. 

 

He would definitely have to look into that, perhaps make some friends while doing so. Logan had not never been the social type, but he was beginning to feel lonely, only knowing two people who already appeared to be good friends. It only got worse as he considered the fact that Roman was much cooler than him and would likely cease being around him once he had completed training and that Virgil was hopelessly out of his league - not that Roman wasn’t either, just that Virgil also had reason to leave him alone once they were done with the more formal aspects of their relationship. 

 

Logan shook his head, deciding to focus on eating his dinner and then finding the others to discuss his coming along on the mission. He suspected he would have to somehow prove his readiness to Roman, especially. Right out of a comic book, he swore on it.

 

He was done with his meal by 5:19, giving him plenty of time to find the others and speak with them before 6:00. He picked up his tray and gathered his dirty napkin and silverware on it, ready to find the rec rooms Virgil had spoken about on the tour. On his way out the door, he bumped into Roman (not so literally as his encounter nearly twenty minutes ago), who had apparently just arrived to eat.

 

“I will admit, you’re looking much better,” he sighed, grabbing a tray. “If you manage to find Virgil, I suppose you can come along, small child.”

 

“I’m twenty-seven,” Logan raised an eyebrow. Roman stifled a laugh, though Logan couldn’t understand why. Was his age really that funny?

 

“Just go find him, Logan,” he smiled, walking towards the buffet-style food selection. “Heya, Val! How’s it going?”

 

Logan huffed, shaking his head as he walked away to find Virgil. God, this had been a long day.

 

°•°

 

He found the emo in question leaning over a pool table, apparently trying to line up the perfect shot. From Logan’s position in the doorway of the game room, he could see that Virgil was right on target to miss everything he was attempting to get.

 

“Careful,” he warned, approaching right as Virgil made the shot. His arm went left out of panic, and he managed to hit two balls into the left corner hole.

 

“Thanks, I think,” he said, looking over the table’s new set-up as his opponent, a short agent in a baggy hoodie, groaned.

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she crossed her arms, setting the cue on the rack next to the table. “I’ve gotta be done, Virge,” she sighed.

 

“That’s alright, Moin,” Virgil hung up his own cue and began resetting the table. “It sounds like I’ll be on my way out soon, anyway.”   
  
“Mission?” she asked, her blue eyes meeting Logan’s for a split second.

 

“Yeah, Roman I are taking the newest recruit along to demonstrate proper fighting and power usage techniques.”

 

“Nice! You should tell me how it goes, especially if Roman gets his ass kicked.”

 

“If Roman gets his ass kicked, I’ll be sending the video to every agent in the compound,” Virgil joked, finally done with the table set-up. Moin came around the table to give him a quick high-five before he followed Logan out the door. Logan couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous of their easy banter, and though he knew that he could have that too, should he work on getting to know Virgil better, he also felt like the universe was teasing him by holding this thing out in front of him that he oh, so wanted.

 

“So, what will this mission be like?” Logan asked, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of hearing what the purpose of being an AfterLife agent actually is, unfortunately.”

 

“Well, it’s a bit strange, so I think it’d be better if we just showed you,” Virgil said, leading him into a room he hadn’t seen before. Inside were a few rows of odd chairs, reminiscent of those one might find at a dentist’s office or a medical facility. A small number of them were occupied by what had to be agents, all of whom appeared to be asleep. 

 

“Shouldn’t we wait for Roman?” 

 

“He’ll be here in about 10 minutes or so, which’ll give me the time to explain some of how this works - if you’re interested, that is.”

 

“Of course I’m interested,” Logan scoffed, almost offended that Virgil would ask. Virgil nodded.

 

“I was expecting that, to be honest,” he admitted, walking over to an empty area by the entrance. He pressed his palm to the wall and a large white control panel rose from the floor, looking to be made of the same smooth metallic material of the artificial walls in the training deck. Logan followed Virgil around to the front, inspecting the glowing panels and quietly beeping screens. On the largest of these screens, there appeared to be an index of all the chairs in the room, a few of them glowing blue while others were a pale grey.

 

“This is meant to represent the chairs that are in use, yes?” Logan asked, pointing at it.

 

“The projection stations, yeah,” Virgil nodded. “There’s three types of stations, but the three of us will all be using direct contact types.”

 

“What are the other two?”   
  


“Observation and indirect contact. Observation is pretty straightforward, while direct and indirect are a little less obvious. Direct contact is used to project a semi-corporeal form into the physical world to locate and capture corrupted souls, while indirect contact is used to influence the living to do certain things,” Virgil looked down for the last bit, avoiding Logan’s gaze. “Usually, the IC stations are only used to convince crowds of people to clear out before the DC stations send in agents to capture corrupted souls, but sometimes they’re used to get someone in the physical world to help out with a specific task not suited for a semi-corporeal form.”

 

“Interesting,” Logan hummed.

 

“Alright, are we ready to go?” Roman sauntered in, breathing heavily and looking red in the cheeks. 

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Virgil walked over to the wall and placed his palm on it again, collapsing the control panel. Logan stepped back, watching in awe as it retracting into the floor. He would never get used to this place.

 

“Perfect. Let’s get on with it, then,” Roman made his way to the third row of chairs - no, projection stations - and sat down in one, pressing a large blue button on the much smaller control panel attached to it. “Report says we’ve got one dark cloud on the loose, coordinates on me.”

 

“You had better wait for us, then,” Virgil scoffed, following Roman and sitting down in the station next to him. “Logan’s going to need some minor instruction on how to patch in.”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Logan joined the two, taking the last station in the row. “I have no clue what I’m doing in this thing.”

 

“It’s pretty simple when you’re patching and not leading. Just press the green button on your panel there,” Virgil told him, and Logan quickly located and pressed it. “Now just wait for Roman to link you in. He’s going to set our stations to follow him, so you don’t need to worry about coordinates or specific settings this time.”

 

“Alright,” Logan took a deep breath, turning his head to the left to watch Roman work. He had pulled down a metallic limb from the top of the headrest which was projecting a holographic screen and keyboard for him to type on. Roman punched in a few things, then hit the blue button on his panel once more and the projections disappeared. He then pushed the green button, followed by a pink one, and a few smaller limbs rose from the back of the headrest. Roman looked straight up, and they wrapped themselves around his forehead.

 

“Confirm,” he said after a moment, and the pieces around his forehead began to glow a light blue. “Virgil Mallory, Logan Prayan.”

 

“Logan, you should look up so the equipment can attach properly,” Virgil instructed. Logan did so, staring at the ceiling above him. “Oh, and try to relax - this is going to be a bit weird, even more so if you’re nervous.”

 

Logan bit back the urge to say “not helping!” and instead just stared upwards as the metallic limbs situated themselves around his forehead. Almost immediately, he heard a voice in his head.

 

_ “Connection established. Agent Roman Diaz requesting collaboration, please confirm that you wish to link in.”  _

 

“Uh, confirmed?” Logan mumbled, remembering what Roman had done just seconds ago. There was a quiet beeping sound, and then, in the distance, Virgil's own confirmation.

 

_ “Transferring connection to Agent Diaz. Please wait.” _

 

Logan gasped as his vision faded out, the ceiling above him quickly being replaced by a strange room coated in the color blue. He tried to stand up, only to find that he was already upright, standing on a small, circular pedestal-like area. In front of him, looking somewhat transparent, stood Roman.

 

“Welcome to the mindscape, Logan!” Roman declared, walking over to greet him. Logan stepped down, walking further into the room. “This is a space where agents meet up before and after missions. We’re just waiting on Virgil, and then we can- ah, speak of the devil!”

 

Virgil appeared on the small pedestal, chunks of semi-transparent material assembling from the ceiling to complete his form. He raised an eyebrow at the two of them and stepped forward, hands in his pockets.

 

“We ready?” he asked, shooting a glance at Roman, who simply nodded in response. “Good. Let’s get this done, hm?”

 

He walked to the end of the room and pressed a palm to the wall. A panel slid aside, much link a hidden doorway, and Virgil motioned for them to step through. Roman slipped past him and disappeared into the darkness beyond the doorway, and Logan decided to follow. Things couldn’t get any stranger, could they?

 

Oh, how wrong he was.

 

As soon as he entered the doorway, the room behind him faded, though it did not leave behind darkness or nothingness or any of the things he would expect. Instead, a street seemed to rise up around him, building from the dirty pavement below his feet to the smoky sky above his head. He turned around a few times in awe, taking in the sight. After a week spent in the cleanest and most futuristic building he’d ever been in, an everyday alleyway just seemed alien. Roman, next to him, seemed to share the same sentiment.

 

“I will  _ never  _ get over how strange these transitions are,” he exclaimed, kicking at a garbage can. It barely nudged under his attack, but it was enough to make Logan’s eyes widen. 

 

“Are we actually,” he paused, gesturing around him, “here? Are we really, truly, in an alleyway somewhere, next to a street,  _ I thought we were dead how can we be here,”  _ Roman held up a hand, and Logan cut himself off, barely able to catch his breath.

 

“Logan, calm down,” he ordered. Virgil appeared next to him, but Logan didn’t care, he needed to know what was going on. “We’re not actually here, not physically. We’re just projecting semi-corporeal forms into the physical world. Careful, though - any injuries you contract here will follow you to the… back to base.”

 

“Direct contact, remember?” Virgil chimed in, and Logan nodded, feeling almost nauseous. “We can influence things to a certain extent, but we won’t be seen and we can’t do things a living person would.”

 

“Well, not like this,” Roman muttered, almost inaudible. Logan took a deep breath, then plastered a shaky smile on his face.

 

“Sorry for freaking out,” he said. “I got a bit freaked out by the change, that’s all.”

 

“Understandable,” Virgil nodded. “On his first mission, Roman got so surprised that he started running down the street screaming. It was definitely a sight to behold.”

 

“I wasn't surprised,” Roman huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was just excited.”   
  


“Yeah, alright, alright,” Virgil conceded, though he winked at Logan in a way that  _ definitely  _ didn’t make his heart skip a beat. “Roman, how far is the cloud?”

 

“My tracker shows that it’s somewhere on our right, on one of the streets,” Roman said, his tone more serious. “Could be hard to capture.”

 

“Very likely,” Virgil said coolly, a long dagger materializing in his hand. “But we can hardly let it get away.”

 

“True,” Roman pulled his staff out of thin air and began walking down the alleyway. “Logan, stick behind us and try to observe my technique, both with the staff and with my powers. It may help you out in training.”

 

Logan followed Virgil and Roman out into the street, watching as the cars drove past and a slow stream of people walked down the sidewalk. True to what Virgil had said, nobody seemed to notice the three of them. 

 

“Roman?” Virgil barked, eyes scanning the street methodically.

 

“It’s close,” he replied, stepping into the street. “On its way towards us, I think.”

 

Just as he finished his sentence, a great black shadow swooped down from the rooftops, narrowly missing Roman as it dove towards the trio and pulled into the air again. Roman tightened his grip on his staff, while Virgil dropped his dagger on the ground.

 

“Your way, then,” he snarled as the shadow turned back for another attack. He curled his hands into fists, nodding at Roman. Logan watched in awe as Roman summoned a ball of fire, right in his hand, and flung it towards the shadow, his eyes widening as the enemy dodged the attacks perfectly. This continued on for a few seconds to no avail, and the shadow only grew closer through the attacks.

 

“Well-trained,” Roman panted, throwing a few more fireballs. He cursed under his breath as all of them flew past their foe, disappearing into the cloudy sky above. “Your smoke might be better for this one.”

 

“Figures,” Virgil hissed, barely managing to sidestep the shadow as it swooped towards him. It immediately pulled up again, too fast for either of them to swipe at even if Virgil had still been holding his dagger. “Assisted attack?”

 

“I’m for it,” Roman shrugged, stepping back. He flapped a hand at Logan, who stepped back at his request. He bumped into a few people, but they didn’t seem to notice that they’d been moved off-course, and Logan was too enraptured by the fight to care.

 

Virgil raised his arms and a plume of dark purple smoke burst from each palm. The two tendrils twisted and curved around each other as they stretched towards the sky, racing after the shadow creature. Next to him, Roman stomped a foot down and ground his heel into the ground, then jumped up, fire bursting from his soles as he made chase himself. 

 

Virgil’s tendril of smoke broke off into two again, one limb reaching ever faster towards the dark cloud ahead, while the other wrapped around Roman’s torso and thrust him into the sky before rejoining with the first tendril. Roman hurtled upwards, now nearly fifty feet in the air and still gaining on the shadow. It began to slow down, but still it climbed through the air, Roman fresh on its tail.

 

“I’m going to blast it down,” he yelled, barely being heard by the two men on the ground. Virgil yelled something in response while Logan just took a step back, staring as Roman grabbed the shadow in his arms and sent it towards the ground, fire now swirling around in the inky darkness of the creature’s skin. It slammed into the concrete, cracking the sidewalk where it hit. Roman began fall from the sky, staff ready. Virgil slammed the shadow to the ground with his smoke, holding it there as it squirmed and burned.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, nearly too quiet for Logan to hear. He glanced up for a split second, almost meeting Logan’s eyes. “You’re just too far gone.”

 

Just then, Roman slammed down on the ground, sending his spear through the shadow’s form. Logan stepped back as it made a horrible screeching sound and went limp, form still shaking around the edges. Virgil grimaced through the ordeal, though said nothing as he relaxed his hands and let the smoke dissipate into the air.

 

“Nice work, Virge,” Roman huffed, pulling a small white orb out of the air. He ran a finger along the blue strip on the center, which began to glow blue before sliding open. Virgil snapped his fingers and the shadow creature flew inside, and the orb snapped shut. Roman threw his staff in the air and it disappeared, though Virgil took a much subtler approach with his dagger. 

 

“You did alright,” Virgil smirked, and Roman made some very offended noises in response.

 

“That was incredible,” Logan whispered, eyes darting between the two of them. They looked up at him, almost in sync, and Roman stepped forward.

 

“I’m glad you thought so,” he said, twirling the orb on his finger. Virgil scowled and grabbed it from him, though Roman didn’t seem to care. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to execute similar moves in the future. Tailored to your skillset, of course.”

 

“Yeah,” Logan grinned, a child-like wonder washing over him. “Hopefully.”

 

°•°

 

The disconnection procedure (or “log-off time”, as Virgil had apparently nicknamed it) seemed to rush by as Logan realized how exhausted he was. Although he had gotten a long nap in the middle of the day, and hadn’t done much since then, he was barely on his feet when he was released from the projection station. Virgil had offered him a hand, but he had shaken his head and pushed himself onto his feet.

 

“I think I should get going to bed here, soon,” he announced, looking down at his watch. “It’s already 8:30.”

 

“What, past your bedtime?” Roman snickered, earning a tap on the arm from Virgil. “Joking, joking!”

 

“See you in the morning, then, ‘L,” Virgil nodded. “We’ll be doing more training tomorrow, though it’ll be later than it was today.”

 

“Alright, goodnight,” Logan began the long walk back to his room very tired, though with a lot to think about. He still had his doubts, of course, but in one day, he’d been introduced to a world of wonder that he wouldn’t have thought possible before. Perhaps he was being rash, or jumping into it too soon, but he really was excited to begin a career here as an agent.

 

Wasn’t like he had anything better to do.


	4. ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation was salvaged from the darkness, and bent back into shape.

There was a glimmer of light, then. A slight shine, reflecting on something in the darkness. He caught a glimpse of it, staring for as long as he could before it was covered quickly by more shadows, more darkness. Everything, out of sight. Would it really end this way?

 

“Why do you fight me on this?” he asked. The other man shook his head. 

 

“You’re wrong,” he answered, voice hoarse.

 

“You’re not exactly the hero, here,” he growled, stepping closer. There it was again; that glimmer of light.

 

“I am,” he gasped. “I will beat you. I have to.”

 

“You’re powerless,” he laughed, high and cold and devoid of joy. “You really think you’re able to stop me?.”

 

“I’ve always been stronger than you,” he whispered. His voice was quiet now, almost meek in presentation. The other soul let out a low chuckle.

 

“And what makes you think that you matter?”

 

He took another step, and the tiny glimmer grew to a thin, wavering beam. Barely noticeable. Barely there. Barely strong enough to exist surrounded by the darkness. But there it was, the original, still holding on. It was covered in shadow, but not defeated. No.

 

“I will save them,” he whispered. “They’re counting on it.”

 

The man turned, letting out another laugh. “You may try, but you  _ will  _ fail,” he said happily. The original winced. “Good luck.”

 

Then, the lone beam of light faded. First to a glimmer. Then it was a shine. Then, nothing.

 

The laughter grew faint. His breathing grew louder. That light, that he had imagined, it grew.

 

At that time, all went silent. All was dark. A forgotten conversation stayed alone in that darkness, misheard by the shadows. What little light remained had to be in his head. He was weak.

 

But it didn’t matter.

 

He was going to save them all, and he had only just begun.


	5. Games and Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A game is played. The game begins.

Logan hummed softly, staring up towards the ceiling. He could not see the smooth surface above him, but he knew it was there. Behind his voice, deeper and lower and barely audible, there was another humming sound. It had been warbling away for the majority of the night, though Logan had only noticed it when he woke up around 4:00 AM.

 

“Not ideal,” he could imagine his mom’s voice now. “But better to get a little sleep than none at all, yes?”

 

“Yes,  _ ammi, _ ” he would say. She might rustle his hair then, or wrap him in a quick hug, heading out the door to work. Then his mother would leave, too, telling him and his sister to have a nice day, don’t overwork themselves, remember to be kind to each other.

 

Logan’s heart ached in his chest, and he rolled over, away from the ceiling. He stopped humming, immediately forgetting the tune, anyway. Curling in on himself, he cast aside the memories of his family. He tugged on his blankets, melting into the warmth they provided. It was all he needed. All he needed to drift off to sleep, leave his worries in a world he was never meant to return to.

 

As he faded out, he wondered again about his family. He dreamt of them that night, of their faces and their smiles and their voices, and when he awoke, he couldn’t shake the warm smile off his face, no matter how hard he  may have tried. Though he wouldn’t remember waking so early, humming along to the building’s quiet song, or thinking of his mom in the dark, he would remember that feeling of hope, of warmth, that he woke up with. Perhaps things would be alright after all.

 

°•°

 

Logan didn’t see Roman or Virgil at all that morning, which was quite annoying. After their mission the other day, Logan had written down almost two pages of questions about the shadow creature, or, “dark cloud”, as it had been called. Forgetting to ask about it in their training session, he resolved to ask one of them about it the next day, only for the other two to suddenly make themselves scarce.

 

Logan checked over his notes and questions in his notebook as he walked towards the rec room. The pages of his tiny journal had grown more crowded since his first mission and second training session. He had spent almost an hour the other night trying to remember the details of what Roman and Virgil had told him, all the tips about his stance and the guides on how to reach and control his power. He had surprised even himself with how quickly he was adapting to life at AfterLife - or, would that be lack of life? Logan still wasn’t sure. Still, he was catching on surprisingly fast, and had even managed to make a few friends (who weren’t Roman and Virgil, though he did consider them to be friends as well).

 

Oddly enough, that was where he was headed now, to meet up with those friends. Joan and Talyn had asked him if he wanted to spend his free day hanging out with them and perhaps, learning the rules of upcoming training games. Logan had been ecstatic that they would ask, but had managed to keep a calm face and accept their offer rather professionally.

 

“Logan, what took you so long?” Joan called as he turned the corner. They were waiting outside one of the rec rooms, nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. Logan smiled and jogged over to them, then shrugged.

 

“Maybe I’m just slow,” he answered, following Joan inside.

 

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked if you’re slow,” Talyn said, throwing a dart at a dartboard (Logan assumed they were aiming for the dartboard, at least). They grinned at it hit the wall three feet away.

 

“And you’re gonna get yours handed to you if you can’t bring yourself to throw any better than that,” Logan raised an eyebrow. Talyn snorted and grabbed another dart, this time landing it only a foot away from the dartboard. Logan slow-clapped, motioning for Joan to join in, which they did after an eye roll and a sigh. Talyn bowed, then retrieved the darts and set them back in place.

 

“So, what do you guys want to do?” Joan asked, poking Talyn in the arm.

 

“I don’t care,” Talyn shrugged. “I’m down for a little chaos, if you’re bored.”

 

“The day has barely begun,” Logan mused. “How can one be bored if they haven’t started anything yet?”

 

“Well, what do we wanna start, then? And no, Talyn, it can’t be a food fight.”

 

“We could gather a couple more people and play a big game of capture the flag,” Talyn suggested. “It was fun last time, wasn't it?”

 

“That look on Roman’s face when Patton used his own glitter bomb against him,” Joan recalled, grinning as they held back laughter, “that was beautiful.”

 

“You wanna ask around, see if anyone’ll join in?” Talyn asked, knowing that Joan was already hooked on the idea. Logan was becoming increasingly interested as well, and so the trio set off to gather players for the game. Logan just sort of tagged along, as he didn’t quite know anyone yet, at least not as well as Joan and Talyn seemed to.

 

“Here, I’ll go check with Missy and Pran, they’re always down for a game,” Joan ran off towards the training deck, leaving Talyn and Logan to look for any others.

 

“You know anyone you could ask?” Talyn peered up at Logan, seeming much smaller than him for a moment. He shrugged, unable to admit that no, he didn’t. “What about your training instructor? Surely you can ask them,” they suggested.

 

“I haven’t been able to find Roman or Virgil all day,” Logan huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Talyn pulled a datapad from their pocket and punched in a few numbers, then looked up.

 

“Roman’s unavailable, probably on a mission or doing work,” they frowned. “But Virgil’s close! He’s in rec room four, which is just down that hallway, and then you take a right at the split over there,” they pointed down the hall as they spoke, and Logan nodded, quickly going on his way.

 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he called, jogging forward.

 

“Alright,” Talyn said, pulling up their datapad again. “I can wait.”

 

Logan found Virgil outside the rec room, the door swishing closed behind him. He seemed to sway where he stood, fingers twitching idly at his side. Logan approached him slowly, taking note of the deep bags under his eyes. Virgil finally noticed him once he was about three feet away, and offered him a shaky smile and a small wave. Logan returned the smile, though he kept his hands stuffed in his pockets.

 

“So, I was, I mean,  _ we _ were wondering if you would want to play a game? We, Joan and Talyn and I, we were planning a game, like, capture the flag, I think, and we, well, I, wanted you to join, or play, if you wanted,” Logan paused, curling one hand into a fist. Virgil stared at him, almost looking concerned.

 

“It sounds fun?” he croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He cleared his throat, then tried again. “It sounds like fun,” he amended, sounding much better this time (though Logan still noticed the scratchy undertone to his voice).

 

“Well, if you’re up to it, we’d love to have you.”

 

“Cool,” Virgil nodded. “How soon are you starting?”

 

“I’m… not sure,” Logan admitted. “We could go meet up with Talyn and ask, though.”

 

“Sure.”

 

The two set off down the hallway then, Logan in the lead. His fingers curled up in his pocket, brushing up against his notebook, and then, of course! His notebook, all those questions, he could ask Virgil now.

 

“Er, Virgil?” Logan slowed down and turned around to face him. “I realized, just now, that I have a few questions for you, just about missions in general, and other stuff like that.”

 

“Ask away,” Virgil shrugged. “That’s what I’m here for.”

 

“Right,” Logan paused. “Well, I just wanted to ask, first… What exactly was that shadow creature that we - well, you and Roman - fought?”

 

“Dark cloud,” Virgil scowled. “Corrupted soul. They’re like us, but… messed up.”

 

“Like us?” Logan asked. 

 

“Like us.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well, they’re dead, for starters,” Virgil huffed, crossing his arms. “Most of them had powers, even potential to be great agents. But they didn’t work out. They got corrupted, and they’re dangerous.”

 

“Can’t they be… uncorrupted?”

 

“In theory, yes. But we can’t do that unless-” Virgil hissed suddenly, his hand flying to the back of his neck. “It’s just impossible,” he ground out. Logan reached out a hand, but Virgil waved it away, his own arms flopping down at his sides.

 

“So, they used to be agents?” Logan finally asked, breaking the silence between them. Virgil just shrugged.

 

“Some of them, yeah,” he muttered. “Look, let’s go meet up with Talyn. We can finish this later.”

 

“Alright,” Logan nodded, turning away from Virgil then. The two walked quietly back to where Talyn was waiting for them. A million more questions seemed to swim around in Logan’s head, and he wished he had brought his pen with him to write them down - though he feared that in doing so, he would completely fill his tiny notebook. Perhaps it would be worth it, though, just to know the answers.

 

“Let’s do this,” Logan smiled as he approached Talyn, and Virgil seemed to do the same.

 

“Yeah,” Talyn grinned, “let’s.”

 

°•°

 

“Can’t believe that you assholes managed to beat us,” Virgil grumbled, throwing a paint-covered towel at Joan. They laughed, catching it and throwing it back. Virgil yelped as it hit him in the face, shoving Joan as they burst out laughing. 

 

“Can’t believe that you assholes managed to lose,” Talyn laughed, wiping streaks of paint from their face. Logan scrubbed at his arm, wiping away the last traces of paint from his skin.

 

“Dude, just take a shower,” Joan poked him in the arm, where several large spots of color remained, barely noticeable. “That shit isn’t going to just come out, y’know?”

 

“Well, coming out is rather hard,” Logan smirked. “I wouldn’t want to force it.”

 

“Gay jokes aside, if you come to training tomorrow with paint on your arm, or anywhere else, I will make you run laps,” Virgil grabbed the towel out of Logan’s hand, using it to scrub flecks of paint off his own skin. 

 

“He’s serious about that,” Talyn warned. “He was my training instructor when I got here, I would know.”

 

“I only made you run laps, like, once!”

 

“Still the worst training session of my life.”

 

“Spending it with him, I could see that,” Logan sent a wink in Virgil’s direction, and the room was filled with laughter.

 

“Get roasted, V,” someone laughed, throwing a towel towards him. Virgil caught it in his free hand and launched it back without looking.

 

“Nobody says that anymore, Kev,” he called over his shoulder.

 

“Well, I’m off to have lunch,” Talyn announced. “Feel free to join me if you’re not too covered in paint or glitter.”

 

“Looks like I’m out of luck,” Joan joked, holding out their sparkly arms. “I’ll get glitter all over your food, won’t I?”

 

“Probably,” Talyn shrugged, then grabbed them by the wrists and dragged them out of the room. “But you don’t count anyway. Come on.”

 

“Isn’t it 4:00 P.M.?” Logan snorted, turning to Virgil. He only shrugged, setting down his second paint-covered towel.

 

“Yeah, but most of us have been playing since at least 10:00,” he explained. “Aren’t you hungry?”

 

“I suppose,” Logan shrugged. “Race you to the cafeteria?”

 

“Oh, you’re on,” Virgil was already launching himself over a table to beat Logan to the door, but he still didn’t beat him to the hall. Logan narrowly avoided being body-slammed by him, then flung himself down the hallway. The two of them stayed neck-and-neck nearly the whole way down to the cafeteria, Virgil only slipping ahead at the very end of the race. Logan groaned as Virgil slipped past him, not-so-subtly flashing him the finger as he ran.

 

“Rude!” Logan yelled, wheezing as he slowed to a halt. 

 

“Love you,” Virgil called teasingly, slipping into the cafeteria doors. Logan’s heart skipped a beat, and he was so glad that he could blame the red of his cheeks on the exertion of their little race. He scowled and started running down the hall again, this time to catch up with Virgil instead of beat him. Right as he reached the door, though-

 

Logan gasped and stumbled backwards, falling right on his back. He blinked and looked up at Roman’s concerned and apologetic face above him.

 

“Geez, I’m so sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Here,” he held out a hand to help Logan up, but the young man was already on his feet. Roman smiled, pulling his arm down and tucking a small brown and gold object under it. Logan glanced at it, and Roman pulled it further under his arm.

 

“What was-”

 

“Nothing for you to worry about, specs,” he interrupted, his smile growing stiffer. Logan took the cue and nodded, walking more slowly to the cafeteria. Roman disappeared around the corner, and so did Logan’s thoughts about the strange object. Little did he know, this would not be the last he saw of the thing.

 

This was only the beginning.


	6. Forest Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan hears some things before his meeting with Dr. Picani. Later, a mission leaves him in a bad condition.

The blue light of the datapad shone up on Logan’s restless fingers, illuminating them as they tapped away on its surface. Logan had mentioned his notebook to Virgil after their game, so he had gotten a datapad issued to him for him to record his thoughts more efficiently.

 

_ “Plus, if you have questions, you can just send them to me whenever you like,” Virgil handed him the small device, and Logan very carefully pulled it from his hands. It was small and smooth, and the two ends of the retractable screen were already snapped together, making the thing small enough to fit in a pocket. _

 

_ “And I just press this button here, yes?” Logan had asked, fingers hovering over the small black power button on the end. Virgil nodded. _

 

_ “Yeah,” he said. “That’ll activate it, so you can, y’know, use it.” _

 

Logan stared at it now, ignoring everything else as he walked through the halls of AfterLife. Sometime in the past week, he’d realized that the maze-like facility was great not just for games with the others, but also for exercise. When he needed to clear his head, he found himself taking long walks through unfamiliar corridors, usually late at night. Virgil had found him like this once, the night after their impromptu game with Joan and Talyn, and had sat down next to him. That was when he’d given him the datapad, explaining that he would’ve done so in the morning, but Logan looked like he could use a distraction right about then.

 

Now, though, he was slipping the deactivated datapad back into his pocket. He was going to be late for his meeting Roman if he didn’t get food now (unless he ate later, of course), and he really hated being late. It was his least favorite thing, showing up somewhere long after everyone else, long after expected.

 

Logan quickened his pace, moving down the hallway at a speed that almost made him out of breath. It wasn’t quite running, he’d learned his lesson with that one, after running into Roman outside the cafeteria, but it was certainly much faster than his usual pace. This was common, too, the fast-walking or even jogging as he explored the facility.

 

Speaking of exploring, Logan noticed he was (not for the first time) in an unfamiliar section of the building. Most hallways were very similar in appearance, but a few, like this one, had a long stripe or two stretching down the hall, leading to an important area of the building. There was a pink one outside the cafeteria, a red one near the training deck, a purple one near the mission center, and now, a light blue one that stopped outside a large set of doors.

 

Something about them caught Logan’s eye. Perhaps it was the abnormally large size of them, amplified by their isolation in the hallway. Perhaps it was the faint patterns that looked to be painted over, still shining through. Or, perhaps it was the flurry of voices from inside, muffled, but clear enough to catch if he focused.

 

“-let him have it, you know that!”

 

“But he knows it’s here, he  _ knows,  _ P-”   
  


“We can’t give in to him! That’s what you’re doing, that’s what this is-”

 

The voices grew closer, and Logan backed up from the door (wait, when did he get that close-), hitting the wall behind him. He stiffened, and the voices fell silent for a moment, but picked up after another minute.

 

“Look, I have to go, but please,  _ please,  _ keep that thing away from him.”

 

“I’ll do the best I can, but I can’t promise anything. He’s strong, you’ve seen him in action-”

 

“I don’t want excuses, Roman.”

 

Logan froze, staring at the door. Roman? Who was Roman talking to? What could they be talking about?  _ Who  _ could they be talking about?

 

“And you won’t hear any more, I promise. I just… I just need you to accept that while I’ll try my hardest, there’s no way I can beat him. Not if he starts figuring out his powers, which he is.”

 

“I’m not asking you to beat him,” the other voice softened. “I would never ask that of anyone, not even you. It’s too risky.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Just promise me you’ll keep him from seeing it? If he doesn’t know where it is, he can’t take it, which should at least slow things down a bit.”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Good. Stay safe, Roman.”

 

Logan could hear one of them approaching the door now, so he took off down the hall, turning the corner just as the doors swished open. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Why had he done that? He had no reason to listen to their conversation, no reason at all!

 

Except… It did rather sound like they were talking about him, didn’t it? Logan paused, revisiting the conversation in his head.

 

_ “...there’s no way I can beat him. Not if he starts figuring out his powers, which he is.”  _

 

Logan stared down at his hands, cold crystals forming on his fingertips. His fingers twitched, and they fell away, leaving his skin cold, terrifyingly so. If they really were talking about him…

 

He clenched his fists and shoved them in his pockets, marching forward. He didn’t care. He  _ shouldn’t _ care. Those words weren’t his to hear, so he would just pretend that he hadn’t.

 

When he passed Roman in the hall before training, he smiled at him, almost panicking at Roman’s weak impression of a smile that he gave in return. But he just kept walking. He just kept walking.

 

°•°

 

“Logan!” Virgil placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling him from his trance-like state. “We’re doing something a bit different today, if that’s alright.”

 

“I saw your message,” Logan nodded, pointing towards his datapad. “I wasn’t aware that there were doctors here.”

 

“There’s a little bit of everything here, honestly,” Virgil sighed. “Everyone used to be someone, so it’s only natural that we’ve got some variety of skill among agents.”

 

“Sure,” Logan hummed. “Makes some sense.”

 

“Well, anyway, Dr. Picani will be ready to meet with us in about fifteen minutes, so if you’re not ready yet…”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Logan waved a hand dismissively. “I’m ready to go at any time.”

 

“Then, play a game with me?” Virgil plopped down on the couch next to him, definitely close enough to see the hearts in Logan’s eyes. If he did, though, he didn’t say anything. 

 

“What kind of game?”

 

“Just throwing darts or something,” Virgil shrugged. “We could do a board game, there’s plenty of those in here.”

 

“...have you ever played chess?” Logan asked, putting away his datapad. Virgil nodded, already getting up to grab a board.

 

“Played, yes,” Virgil set the board down on a table and motioned for Logan to join him. “Won? Nope.”

 

“Well, I can assure you that your streak of failure will be maintained,” Logan grinned boldly, turning his head to the side to pop his neck. Virgil snickered and started to set up the board.

 

Ten minutes later, Logan realized that Virgil had to have been lying. There was no way he could never have won a game of chess with his level of skill, and this was coming from someone who had his own levels of chess-related talent.

 

“Check,” Virgil flicked away Logan’s captured bishop, his smile growing wider as it hit the floor. “Your move, pal.”

 

“H-how,” Logan stared at the board in awe, trying to look for a way out of this mess. “Wow.”

 

“So, what were you saying about my streak of failure?” Virgil teased, leaning back in his chair. Logan scowled, fingers hovering over the board idly. After a moment, he finally moved one of his pawns aside, sighing in defeat and Virgil leapt at the opening.

 

“Good game,” Logan shook his head, unable to bear the sight of Virgil beating him. “I really believed you when you said you’d never won.”

 

“Roman believed it twice,” Virgil began to pack up the board.

 

“What exactly does that mean?”

 

“It means that I told him the same thing I told you, beat him, and then the next day, did it all over again.”

 

“You mean to say that he didn’t remember you beating him the first time?” Logan chuckled, putting the board away as Virgil pulled on his jacket.

 

“To be fair, he was drunk.”

 

“I see.”

 

Logan glanced down at his watch, frowning at the time. 

 

“Don’t worry,” Virgil assured him, his own watch peeking out from under his sleeve. “Picani’s office is nearby, and he won’t really mind if we’re late. Still, we should get going.”

 

The two of them set off down the hallway together, Virgil leading the way. Logan kept tapping his fingers on the face of his wristwatch, only stopping when they reached the door to Picani’s office. Virgil punched in a code on the keypad and the door swished open, revealing a young man in a light brown sweater vest pushing papers around on a desk. Logan took immediate note of his outfit, as nearly every other person he’d seen had been wearing somewhat modified versions of the same basic uniform, only deviating in color, size, or cut. Dr. Picani appeared to be the first to be wearing a completely normal outfit.

 

“Virgil!” he looked up suddenly, pushing the mess of papers aside. He seemed to almost skip towards them extending a hand. Virgil shook it quickly, and Picani quickly moved on to Logan, who was much less enthusiastic about the contact. “I was just about to go get you two.”

 

“No need, Doc,” Virgil smiled, stepping aside to let Logan peer into the office further. A few feet away were some couches, and behind that, a few tables set up with lab equipment.

 

“Please, take a seat,” Dr. Picani gestured to the couches, and Virgil was quick to oblige, plopping himself down on the armrest of the nearest one. Logan took a tentative seat next to him, wondering how Virgil managed to be comfortable like that. Surely he would be much happier on the actual couch, next to Logan, or in his lap, perhaps, or…

 

“Well, Virgil told me that you had asked about corrupted souls a few days ago, is that right?” Logan nodded, and Picani hummed in response, grabbing a seemingly random paper off his desk and sitting on the couch across from the two. “Well, I’m sort of the resident expert on them, or at least on their effects.”

 

“Their effects?” Logan questioned, straightening his glasses. This might get interesting…

 

“Mm-hmm! Their negative energy can have some pretty horrible effects on agents - only if you stay near them for too long, of course!” he added hastily, sensing Logan’s distress. “You won’t have to worry about that too much on normal missions.”

 

“When  _ do  _ I have to worry about it, then?” Logan stared at Picani inquisitively.

 

“You’ll only have to worry about it if a battle goes on for a long stretch of time, or if you work with the captured spirits,” Picani explained, tapping a pencil on his fingers. Logan glanced at it in confusion - when did Picani get a pencil? “Whenever a dark cloud - slang for corrupted soul - forms or escapes captivity, an agent, or sometimes a team of agents, depending on the severity, is sent to capture it, if at all possible.”

 

“Captivity?” Logan echoes.

 

“We’re unable to reverse the corruption of souls right now, but we want  to, someday,” Picani nodded. “So whenever they’re captured, they’re sent back to base and stored in powerful containers, usually guarded by storage agents.”

 

“What if they’re not captured?” Logan remembers the way that shadow-thing, that dark cloud, had squirmed, how it had struggled. He could see it now, burning and  _ screaming _ , and he wondered how much worse things could have been.

 

“Then they die,” Picani said softly, looking towards the ground. “They just… they die.”

 

“Oh,” Logan said. He felt like he was intruding now, what with the doctor’s sudden vulnerability, and that concerned look on Virgil’s face, the silent communication between the two-

 

“So,” Logan cleared his throat, and both Virgil and Piani’s attention snapped to him, “what happens if you’re around a dark cloud for too long.”

 

“Ah,” Picanin straightened his back, sitting up with a smile on his face, “I’m glad you asked. From what we’ve observed, it’s somewhat different for every person and for every corrupted soul, but the general effects can include heightened feelings of anxiety, heightened feelings of depression, confusion, short term or long term memory loss, and feelings of kinship with the cloud in question.”

 

“That’s… a lot,” Logan admitted. “How do storage agents deal with that, or avoid it?”

 

“We keep them on a strict schedule,” Picani hummed. “Not being near the clouds for extended periods of time means a significantly lower chance of experiencing any unwanted symptoms.”

 

“Is that all, Doctor?” Virgil asked after a moment of silence.

 

“I’ve told you, call me Emile,” the doctor smiled. “And yes, that should be all. Unless Logan has any questions, of course…?”

 

“I think I’m alright,” Logan flashed him a stiff smile, then stood, Virgil following his example.

 

“Well, be sure to come on by if you ever need something,” Picani smiled. “Even if it’s just to say hello, I’ll be here to listen.”

 

“Of course,” Logan nodded. “Perhaps I’ll see you later, then.”

 

“Maybe!” Picani jumped up and held open the door for them, waving as they walked out into the hallway.

 

“Was that really all the meeting was?” Logan asked once the door had clicked shut. Virgil nodded.

 

“I told you in the message that it would just be an opportunity to answer some of your questions,” Virgil explained. “I’m kind of surprised that you didn’t spew out about three pages worth of questions, to be honest.”

 

“Well, as much as I’d love to get some of those answered, I didn’t…” Logan paused, searching for the right way to phrase his thoughts. “I didn’t want to upset anyone.”

 

“You wouldn’t have upset him,” Virgil furrowed his brow.

 

“Perhaps it was not the doctor that I was worrying about,” Logan muttered, speeding up to pass Virgil.

 

“Why would you be worried about me getting upset?” Virgil had stopped walking now, and was giving Logan a very strange look.

 

“You…” Logan stared at him. Did he really not remember their very awkward conversation in the hallway the other day? Was it not the entire reason they had met with the doctor? “You got upset last time I talked about it,” he explained carefully.

 

“I did?” Virgil looked almost angry now, but for some reason, Logan didn’t feel like it was directed at him. “Well, I’m sorry, I must have forgotten. You can come to me for anything, Logan, I promise.”

 

“Of course,” he nodded, not believing him in the slightest. Still, he plastered on a smile, and they began walking together again. 

 

°•°

 

“Logan, you up for a mission?” Roman stood in his doorway this time, the harsh light from the hallway contrasting the softer glow of Logan’s room. Logan just nodded, setting aside his datapad and joining Roman as they made their way to the mission center. Virgil was already waiting for them inside, and Logan had to wonder how many missions the two went on together - and whether or not he would be a permanent addition to the group.

 

“There’s going to be two this time,” Virgil read off his datapad as they walked over to the same three stations they’d used before. “We’re going to need Logan in the fight.”

 

“You think he’s ready?” Roman asked quietly, and Virgil just nodded.

 

“I do,” Logan said, sitting down in the station. Roman smiled sheepishly at him before sitting down in his own contact station.

 

“Coordinates on me,” Virgil pressed the large blue button on his control panel, then pulled down the screen-projecting limb and began to type some things in.

 

“Green button,” Roman reminded, and Logan pushed it, then waited. He watched Virgil finish up, pressing two more buttons before the small metal limbs wrapped around his forehead.

 

“Confirm,” Virgil stared straight up. “Roman Diaz, Logan Prayan.”

 

Logan stared up at the ceiling as the same limbs wrapped around his temple, shivering slightly as the voice sounded in his head.

 

_ “Connection established. Agent Virgil Mallory requesting collaboration, please confirm that you wish to link in.”  _

 

“Confirm,” he said, holding his breath as his vision faded out. The blue, computerized room from before built up around him, and he stepped forward almost immediately, nearly running into Virgil.

 

“Careful,” Virgil jumped back, holding his hands out to prevent himself from falling over. “We’re just waiting on Roman, now.”

 

Seconds after Virgil spoke, Roman was assembled on the pedestal, jumping forward when he had fully appeared.

 

“Let’s do this,” he grinned. Virgil rolled his eyes, but walked forward, pressing his palm to the wall. The doorway into darkness appeared, and this time, Logan wasn’t so hesitant to step through - instead, he was rather eager to begin this mission, to prove his skill to the others. 

 

As he stepped forward, the mindscape faded, and in its place appeared a forest, building from the ground up around them. The three found themselves on a pathway that wound around trees and shrubbery, leading into a clearing only a few feet away. In the center, there sat an abandoned tree stump, a rusty axe stuck in the top. Logan walked towards it and ran his finger along the handle.

 

“Tracker shows two clouds coming in near the trail,” Virgil summoned his dagger again turning to face the path they’d walked in from. Roman held a sword in front of himself defensively, while Logan managed to summon a staff from the air next to him. A rush of adrenaline hit him as he held it up - he wasn’t sure he’d be able to summon his weapon, especially considering it had been hard in training, but he’d somehow managed to pull it off first try.

 

“I see one,” Roman hissed, nodding towards a specific area of the forest. Logan stared through the trees, and indeed, back several layers of various foliage, there was an unnatural, humanoid shadow approaching. “Anyone see the other?”

 

“Above us,” Virgil yelled, launching himself at the dirt to avoid a swooping attack by the dark cloud. “Roman, Logan, you get the one on the ground, I’ll take care of the other!”

 

“Got it,” Roman swung his sword out in an arc as the shadow from the forest sped forward, and it barely managed to retreat in time to avoid the blow. Logan raised his staff, charging at it. It froze for a moment, and Logan grinned, victory clear in his sights. “Careful!” Roman yelled, racing after him. Logan managed to get in one good blow, hitting the creature right in the chest, before the thing roared and raised its arms. An impossibly strong gust of air blasted both approaching agents back towards the tree stump in the center of the clearing.

 

“Damn,” Logan gasped. A spike of pain in his ankle kept him on the ground, but Roman was quick to help out, his eyes glowing a light blue as he muttered a healing incantation.

 

“You should be good now,” he said through labored breaths. The shadow began to approach them, more slowly now. It appeared to be inspecting them, its head cocked to the side inquisitively.

 

“I’ll distract it,” Logan panted, quickly regaining his balance. “You attack from the back.”

 

“Alright,” Roman nodded, hopping to his feet. He backed up, slowly pacing to the left of the shadow. The creature took interest in him, turning to face him as he moved in a slow circle around it. Logan yelled at the shadow, quickly gaining its attention, then raised his staff and charged towards it. It raced forward to meet him, and he pulled back then, running around it to the right. The shadow chased after him, and as it got close, Logan nodded at Roman from across the clearing.

 

He raised his staff, blocking the physical attacks of the shadow as Roman raced towards it from the back, sword raised and ready for the final blow. Logan pushed the thing off of him with all his might, and just as it summoned another gust of wind, Roman stabbed it in the side. Logan laughed as he was thrown back towards the trees, though the humor quickly escaped him as he slammed into one. He gasped, slumping to the ground, all the breath knocked out of his lungs. Roman was quickly at his side, but Logan was even quicker to wave him away.

 

“The cloud,” he rasped, “take care of the cloud.”

 

Roman was gone then, and there was a flash of light as he pulled their incapacitated foe into the same sort of white orb he’d had before. Then he was right next to Logan again, trying in vain to heal his injuries, eyes glowing blue and sweat dripping down his face.

 

“M’fine, Roman,” he hissed, standing up shakily. Roman held out a hand to help him stay upright, but Logan ignored it, stepping forward to get a better view on Virgil.

 

Above them, at least sixty feet up, Virgil was battling the last dark cloud, smoke bursting from his palms to keep him airborne. It was hard to see exactly what was going on, but Logan caught flashes of silver as Virgil swung his dagger towards the creature between bursts of smoke.

 

“He's too high,” Roman realized, his sword clattering to the ground. “If he falls…” he curled his hands into fists, then turned to the side. “Stay here,” he instructed Logan.

 

“Where are you going?” Logan whispered. “You can't go up, you can't-”

 

“Just stay here,” Roman growled, turning away again. He spread his fingers, facing his palms toward the ground. Sparks grew to flames under his fingertips, and he jumped, blasting fire towards the ground. He soared upwards, blasting more fire every few seconds to keep in the air. Finally, he reached Virgil and the shadow creature, grabbing the latter of the two and dragging it down with him.

 

Virgil seemed to catch on, wrapping an arm around Roman's waist as he struggled with the dark cloud. He raised his other hand towards the sky, blasting out a cloud of purple smoke that sent the trio hurtling towards the ground. Logan could only watch as they approached, Virgil barely managing to pull them up in time to avoid a hard collision.

 

“Nice one,” Roman yelled, throwing a fireball at the creature. 

 

“No, don't-” Virgil yelped, a smoky arm extending to shield the cloud. The fireball soared past just in time, though, hitting the thing head-on.

 

“What was that for?” Roman stepped back, readying more fire.

 

“It's a copy-cat,” Virgil yelled, barely managing to dodge a ball of dark purple fire. Smoke and flames burst from the creature's chest, chasing after the two agents.

 

Logan rushed forward, ignoring the aching all over his chest, the sharp spike of pain in his chest that only grew with each step. Once he was close to Virgil, he raised an arm, fingers shaking from the effort. Ice burst from his hand, racing towards the creature.

 

“Logan, no, no-” Roman was rushing toward him, Virgil, too, now, but he didn't care. He had to stop it, that creature, before it hurt them, he had to.

 

Virgil put a hand on his should, pulling him back, and he stumbled. The ice fell away, and the shadow darted back into view. Logan watched in horror as a ball of purple flames flew towards him, then passed him, just on his left, right towards Virgil-

 

He might have screamed. Looking back, it was hard to remember anything except for Virgil's face, blurry and terrified above him, and Roman's screams of rage somewhere in the distance. There was a burning in his chest, and something wet in his mouth, warm and metallic. It was on Virgil's hands, too, and Virgil was grabbing at him. Something wet fell down on his face, and Virgil's voice was shaky, telling him to hold on, please, oh my  _ god please, Logan- _

 

And then he was gone, the entire world fading to black. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise - Logan was rather tired.

 

He sighed, slipping into the calming folds of oblivion, every worry already forgotten.


	7. Taking Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan comes to some realizations about himself, and about AfterLife. Mostly about AfterLife.

There was a strange taste in his mouth, and a few thoughts missing from his mind. There was an urge, though, this need to open his eyes, sit up,  _ breathe. _

 

“... because of that,” a voice seemed to fade into existence, and something about it was just so  _ familiar. _

 

“But he's going to start asking, anyway,” another said. He knew this voice, too, though he could not put a name to it.

 

“I'll admit, it would be rather… dangerous, for him to find out,” another one said. This one was less recognizable, but still, he felt as if he'd heard it before.

 

“But this isn't going to lead to that,” the first one hissed. He wanted, so badly, to reach out and grab that one's hand, give them a soft smile. Why did he want that?

 

“You don't know that,” the second one said.

 

“Only time will tell,” the third sighed.

 

“We can't wait for it to happen,” the second one sounded angry now. “If we let him find out, he'll be in danger, and so will we! This was our last chance, if he-”

 

“He's not going to find out,” the first voice assured. “We'll stop him, if we have to.”

 

“We can't stop what's already started,” the second voice sighed.

 

“I need to go,” the third one said after a moment of silence. “It's getting late, and if I'm not back soon…”

 

“We'll see you later. Stay safe.”

 

“I will.”

 

There was a swishing sound then - a door, he wanted to say - and then more silence.

 

“He really cares about you, you know,” the second voice said quietly.

 

“Who, Pat?”

 

“Well, yes, but… I meant Logan.”

 

“He shouldn't,” the first person scoffed. “If he knew about what we're doing, he  _ wouldn't _ .”

 

“He wouldn't blame you.”

 

“Wouldn't he?”

 

“You don't know-”

 

“But I do! He really thinks we're doing the right thing, Roman. He  _ really  _ believes it, just like everyone else at this stupid organization.”

 

“We started by doing the right thing,” the second voice - Roman - reminded. “We can get back to that, you know that's why we're-”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

There was more silence then, and if Logan could move, he would sit up and comfort them both, or bombard then questions, or maybe just give them hugs, let them know it was  _ okay,  _ it was going to be okay.

 

Instead, he laid still as the door swished open and closed, leaving him in the dark and quiet, alone and unhappy and unable to fix it.

 

°•°

 

When Logan awoke for real, it was a lot less interesting. It felt almost like a dream at first, but things seemed to solidify as his body turned itself on again. Dr. Picani was there, along with a nurse that he didn't recognize. They informed him that he was mostly healed and would be reinstated for missions within a week or two, but before that he would be taking it easy and drinking lots of water.

 

“And if you're in any pain, come see Dr. Picani or myself,” the nurse instructed, handing him a fresh set of clothes. “Feel free to get changed before you head back to your room.”

 

“I hope to see you feeling better soon, Logan,” Picani smiled before slipping out of the room, the nurse not to far behind.

 

“I'll be waiting in the hall if you need any help getting there,” he explained, letting the door click shut. Once it did, Logan stood, stretching his back before grabbing his clothes. He changed rather quickly, eager to return to something that brought a level of normalcy.

 

He paused then, wondering when this had become normal for him. When had this replaced black polos and blue ties? When had training and going on missions replaced studying and seeing movies with his sister? When had AfterLife replaced real life?

 

_ When you died,  _ a voice whispered.  _ You know this.  _

 

And he did. His most vivid memory, and most recent, of the real world was leaving it. He remembered sinking, being dragged under the surface of the lake by his home, the terror as the last of the air left his lungs. He remembered convulsing in the water, consciousness robbed from him only moments before his life was. He remembered every second of it. Every single emotion was saved in his memory, etched into his mind like a story in stone.

 

But he didn’t remember walking toward the lake.

 

He didn’t remember waking up that morning.

 

He didn’t remember what he had said to his mothers, or if he’d said anything at all.

 

He didn’t remember going to work, or to the school, or to his sister’s house.

 

He didn’t remember coming home, or if he’d left home at all.

 

He didn’t remember walking toward the lake.

 

Logan’s fingers twitched in his pocket, brushing up against the datapad. He took a deep breath, the first one for several minutes, and he wondered why his lungs burned. Why did it hurt to breathe when he hadn’t needed to do so for weeks?

 

Why didn’t he remember walking towards the lake?

 

The door swished open, and Logan sat down on the bed.

 

“Agent Prayan? Are you alright?” it was that nurse again, the one who was supposed to be waiting for him.

 

“Yes,” he lied, “I’m alright. Just… tired.”

 

“I understand,” the nurse smiled, helping him to stand. “You’ll be a bit tired for the next few days. It happens.”

 

“Clearly,” Logan joked, walking out in the hall with him. He was grateful for the arm wrapped around his. His head was spinning so intensely that he was sure he would fall without it.

 

They didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the walk to Logan’s room, and Logan didn’t bother to say goodbye when the nurse left him. He just sat on his bed for a moment, head still spinning as he thought about what he had realized.

 

Slowly, he took the datapad out of his pocket and set it on the bedside table. From the drawer, he grabbed his pencil and notebook, neglected since the day Virgil had gifted him the datapad.

 

He wrote down every cursed, horrible, homesick thought that was trapped in his useless, sluggish brain. He wrote some of them twice, underlining them or circling them if he really wanted to remember. He filled half of the remaining space with questions, thoughts, and theories. His hands shook the second he pulled the pencil away from the page, but as he wrote, he was filled with a cold determination that he could neither describe nor explain

 

Finally, when he was done, he held the small, blue notebook in his hands, every rebellious thought written on its pages. Very carefully, he set the thing under his mattress, trying to make as little noise as possible as he did so. Once everything was back in place, he laid down on the too-soft bed, placing his glasses on the bedside table.

 

He drifted off into a restless sleep, unable to free himself from those thoughts of his. He cycled through dream after dream that night, each one ending with him walking towards that horrible lake, each time with a new monster lurking beneath the surface.

 

And when he woke in the morning, he almost cried at the sight of a brand new yellow notebook sitting on his desk.

 

°•°

 

The first thing Logan noticed when he entered the cafeteria that morning was that Virgil was sitting alone. The second thing he noticed was that Virgil seemed to be ignoring him, or at least trying to. He barely acknowledged him when he sat down next to him, and was quick to finish his food and leave. Although Joan filled his spot rather quickly, Logan couldn’t help but feel abandoned. Had he done the wrong thing on the mission? Surely it was better that he get hurt than Virgil getting hurt, right?

 

“It’s nice to see you again, L,” Joan smiled, bumping him with their elbow. Logan looked up from his cereal, though he did continue to push it around aimlessly with his spoon. “Couple of us were worried about you, y’know.”

 

“They mean Talyn and I,” an unfamiliar agent sat down on Logan’s other side. “I’m Valerie, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“Logan,” he nodded, extending a hand by habit. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

 

“I figured,” she smiled. “I haven’t been in the main part of the complex for a month or two. It’s nice to meet you, though!”

 

“And you,” Logan stood, grabbing his half-eaten cereal bowl. “I should go.”

 

“See you, pal,” Joan called, waving as he walked away. Logan didn’t turn to see the puzzled look shared between the two he left behind, but he could feel their eyes on his back through the entire walk towards the exit. Even as he walked down the hall, he could feel them staring through the glass, and he wondered, for just a moment, who else was watching.

 

°•°

 

He found Virgil by accident. He had been heading to the library - an area he’d forgotten about entirely since the tour, only to be reminded by Picani after he woke up - when he passed Roman in the hallway. 

 

“I’m so glad to see you awake,” he’d grinned, though Logan didn’t miss the odd look in his eyes. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but it was definitely odd. “Virge and I were so worried when you got hit, but I knew you’d pull through.”

 

“Speaking of Virgil,” Logan inhaled carefully, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “I saw him this morning… He seemed rather upset with me. Did I do something to instigate this?” 

 

“Well, we were worried when you got hit,” Roman repeated, a bittersweet smile taking over his expression. “Virgil was…  _ very  _ worried, to put it simply. You sort of jumped in front of him, if you don’t remember.”

 

“Does he blame himself for my getting hurt?” Logan question, brow raised. Roman simply shook his head.

 

“Look, I’m not sure I can explain it, not perfectly, but…” Roman sighed, shaking his head. “You should talk to him, alright?”

 

“Sure,” Logan rubbed his temple, already wishing he could just go back to sleep. “Where might he be, exactly?”

 

“I’m not entirely sure, but checking the rec rooms and training deck wouldn’t be a bad idea. Though,” Roman began hastily, stopping Logan from leaving, “I wouldn’t interrupt him if he’s training. You might do well to send him a message from your datapad.”

 

“That would be smart,” Logan admitted, his fingers curling in and out in his empty pocket. He hadn’t remembered to grab that from his desk, apparently. Oh, well.

 

“Well, good luck,” Roman flashed him a smile, turning to leave. “I hope to see you in training when you’re feeling better!”

 

With that, the two parted, Logan now heading towards the rec rooms (which were, conveniently, on the way to the library). He checked in the first three, finding them to be mostly empty, and with no sign of Virgil. He narrowly managed to avoid getting roped into joining a board games tournament on his way through checking the fourth and fifth rec rooms, but didn’t actually find Virgil until he made it to the sixth room.

 

He was the only person there, throwing darts at a board over and over. He didn’t turn to acknowledge the door sliding open, nor did he greet Logan as he approached. He just grabbed another dart, hurling at the board with a fury that almost made Logan back up. Almost.

 

“Virgil?” he hurled another dart, ignoring Logan’s approach. Logan could see now that the rage in his eyes had only intensified, however. “Virgil, can we talk?”

 

He slammed the dart in his hand down into the table, scratching its otherwise smooth surface. His fists trembled at his sides, but he nodded.

 

“What about?” he asked in a calm voice. He had crossed his arms now, staring pointedly at the floor to avoid Logan’s gaze.

 

“About the mission,” Logan said carefully, watching Virgil’s expression. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for-”

 

“I don’t,” Virgil cut in, not even a drop of venom in his voice. “I don’t blame myself for what happened to you, alright?”

 

“Oh, I… Alright,” Logan bit his lip, fingers tapping away in his pocket. Why was Virgil so upset, then? “Would you mind explaining this?”

 

“I’m mad at you,” he said lamely, head turning to face the other wall. “You shouldn’t have just…  _ thrown  _ yourself in front of me like that. I can take a hit, Logan.  I’ve taken hits before, and I’ve lived through it, alright? I would have been  _ fine.  _ But you? You were already hurt, and you just… you  _ flung  _ yourself right in front of me, there was nothing I could do. Nothing!”

 

“Virgil, I…” Logan swallowed, unable to continue. What could he say? He knew it had been dumb, ridiculous, illogical. He  _ knew.  _

 

“Look, I’m…” Virgil paused, his voice almost breaking. “I’m not actually mad at you, okay? I just n... want you to be careful.”

 

“I am careful.”

 

“But you weren’t.”

 

“I know.”

 

There was a moment of silence, thick and tense and filled with a thousand words. Logan wanted to say them all, yell at Virgil and tell him that he didn’t care how careful he was, Virgil was more important. Somehow, Virgil was more important.

 

Logan tensed as he was engulfed by a pair of arms. Virgil leaned forward into his chest, holding him tight. He relaxed after a moment, letting himself be held. Hadn’t Virgil just yelled at him? Why was he hugging him now? What did this  _ mean?  _

 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil breathed, almost inaudibly. Logan wrapped his arms around him, voice stuck somewhere in his throat. “I’m being weird, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s alright,” Logan muttered, sagging further into the hug. “Maybe I like weird.”

 

Virgil squeezed tighter, and Logan followed in kind. With all of his heart, he wished for the world to slow down, for this moment to last forever.

 

And for a moment, it did.


	8. And Then, You Forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan makes another attempt to question Virgil about AfterLife. Things end even worse than before.

“Well, sounds like you’re all good,” the nurse - Logan had learned that his name was Morgan - smiled, stepping aside to let him stand. “You’re officially cleared to resume training and missions. You should still make sure you’re getting plenty of rest, though.”

 

“Of course,” Logan smiled stiffly, though Morgan didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll make sure to take care of myself.”

 

“Well, that way, I don’t have to,” Morgan joked. “After you.”

 

Logan stepped into the empty hall, the nurse following behind him. He checked at his watch, barely shocked by how late it was. As much as he wanted to get to bed, though, he still needed to tell Virgil that he’d been reinstated. Both he and Roman had wanted to know, though he figured he could tell Roman in the morning - Virgil had seemed more enthusiastic about the subject anyway.

 

_ “I’m still worried about you pulling some idiotic shit,” Virgil had admitted, pulling away from the hug. “But I’m excited to work with you again.” _

 

_ “Me too,” Logan did enjoy missions, though he realized now that he was a bit wary of them. With all of the things he had been hearing and thinking, he wasn’t sure he trusted AfterLife, or the missions that they sent him on. Still, he trusted Virgil, and he truly was excited to spend more time with him. _

 

_ “Tell me when they let you back in,” Virgil tossed him a throwing dart. “We can celebrate, or something.” _

 

_ “Sure thing,” Logan hurled the dart at the board, hitting it dead-center. “You’ll be the first to know.” _

 

_ “I’d better,” Virgil smiled, tossing him another dart. “Now, let’s play.” _

 

Logan smiled fondly at the memory, though the smile faded as he neared his room. A few other agents were still up now, the hallway filled with chatter and laughter. Logan ignored it all, slipping into his utilitarian tomb of a room. He grabbed his datapad off the desk, sending a quick message to Virgil before tossing it back. He collapsed on the bed, groaning when his datapad chirped to tell him that he’d gotten a response.

 

“System, read message,” he sighed, not bothering to stand up. He even started to pull the covers up and over himself, immediately relaxing into the warmth.

 

_ “Message from Agent Virgil Mallory, nineteen seconds ago. Message follows: ‘I’m so glad to hear it! Roman and I were called in for a mission tomorrow, if you want to come along, that’d be great. No pressure, though, if you’re not up to it.’ No additional messages.”  _

 

“Thanks,” he muttered, knowing full well that the device would neither hear nor understand. He dimmed the lights, rolled over, and dropped like a rock.

 

The lights flickered for a moment, dimming for a few seconds, only to come back brighter than before. Somewhere else, someone screamed.

 

°•°

 

“Lo, come watch this,” Virgil called, pulling him away from his practicing. Logan threw his staff aside, wiping sweat from his forehead as he approached. Virgil pointed towards Roman, who was engaged in a fistfight with someone at least one head shorter than him. Roman looked to be losing by a rather significant measure, his face red and dripping with sweat.

 

“Who is that?” Logan asked, pointing at Roman’s adversary.

 

“Agent Tea,” Virgil answered, a slight smirk on his face. “They’ve got a strong aptitude for elemental powers, especially ice. They spar with Roman quite often.”

 

“Do they win?”

 

“Almost always.”

 

Logan watched as Roman’s opponent - Tea - held up a hand, brushing thick bluish black hair out of their eyes. He noticed after a moment that there was a small crowd of people gathering around them, watching them through the transparent walls. Tea put their hand down, and Roman charged instantly, apparently trying to sweep the leg. Tea just grabbed him and tossed him towards the wall, jumping to the left.

 

“They’re strong,” Logan noted, watching Roman stand, swaying as he regained his balance. Tea just smiled, bracing for another attack.

 

“I already said that,” Virgil scoffed, watching the fight intently. “Roman’s left his right side open to attack, the idiot.”

 

“Physically, I mean,” Logan amended, wincing as Roman charged in again, barely managing to slam Tea against the wall before he was knocked back. “Roman hardy has a chance against them.”

 

“They’re one of the only agents Roman hasn’t beaten,” Virgil agreed, letting out a cheer as Roman was knocked down again. The small crowd burst into quiet laughter once they realized who had made the noise.

 

“One of?” Logan adjusted his glasses, conveniently missing Roman getting in his first few punches. “Who’re the others that he can’t beat?”

 

“Me, Talyn, and…” Virgil trailed off, his face contorting with pain. His eyes were no longer following the fight, instead just staring ahead. “You,” he said, face relaxing. “He, uh, hasn’t fought you, so he hasn’t beaten you yet.”

 

“Yet?” Logan was watching Virgil now, the fight more of an afterthought than anything. Was it his place to ask about whatever had just happened, or would… would asking make it worse? He just shook his head, turning back to the fight.

 

He wasn’t really watching, though, not when Roman got hit in the jaw, or fell to the floor, or got up only to surrender. He wasn’t really listening when the tiny crowd erupted in giant cheers. He just nodded when Roman approached and told him he should get back to training. And once it was over, he followed the two out into the hallway, wondering how he could fix this.

 

Because something was broken. He didn’t know what, he didn’t know how, but something wasn’t right here. And he was getting this horrible feeling that he wasn’t the only one who knew.

 

°•°

 

_ Mission at 5:00,  _ his datapad read.  _ You in or out?  _

 

**_In._ **

 

_ Nice. See you there.  _

 

He snapped the device shut, dropping it in his pocket. It was only 3:48, and while training was over for the day, he wondered if it would be best to get back to it. He’d have to work hard to make up for lost time, right?

 

Something stopped him from moving, this weight in his heart. He sat on his bed  when did this become his bed and stared at the empty walls. For a moment, everything just felt so… heavy. He wasn’t tired, so why did he want to flop down on his side and curl up to sleep? He had things to do. He had people to see. He had friends to catch up with. Agents to train with. A new life to live.

 

So why did he want to leave it?

 

He forced himself to stand, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he did so. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to ask someone. It didn’t matter who. He just needed to see someone.

 

_ Virgil,  _ he decided, stepping towards the door.  _ I can ask him.  _

 

On his desk, his datapad beeped, but he didn’t dare touch it. He wasn’t sure he trusted it right now, not with the questions that were swimming around in his head.

 

He walked into the hallway, pockets empty, mind full. He would solve this. He would have to.

 

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he did.

 

°•°

 

He waited for Virgil outside the mission center, surprised to see how many other agents were coming and going that night. The few times he’d been in this area of the compound, it had been relatively empty, but there was significantly more activity there tonight. Strange, but likely unimportant.

 

Roman appeared around 4:15, seeming rather confused that Logan was there so early.

 

“What are you doing here?” he took a step back, as if just realizing that it was Logan who was leaning against the wall, tapping his fingers at his side. “We’re not due until 5:00.”

 

“I’m waiting for Virgil,” he explained, already feeling a bit silly. There was plenty of time, he could just go look for him. It’s not like it would be hard to find him, anyway.

 

“He won’t be here for at least another ten or twenty minutes,” Roman said scratching the back of his neck. “You could come inside and help me set up, if you’d like.”

 

“I’m good,” Logan shook his head. As much as he was interested in learning more about this place, speaking to Virgil was kind of a priority. He was the only one Logan felt he could trust - as much as he had grown to like some of the other agents, he wasn’t close to many of them. Roman and Virgil were the only two he really knew.

 

“If you’re sure,” Roman sighed. “Well, have fun standing around. I’ll be inside if you need me.”

 

With that, he shook his head and entered the mission center, leaving Logan alone in the hallway. And Logan was fine with that - he now had a rough estimate of when to expect Virgil, and therefor, a time to plan out his questions. He realized when he first left his room that he wouldn’t exactly have time for a full-on interrogation, but he might be able to get a few good questions in before they had to get to work.

 

He just had to decide which ones were the most important. He longed suddenly for his notebook, full of questions and thoughts and doubts. If he could just give that to Virgil, perhaps he would understand. There was a great deal he wanted to ask, but if he’d brought his notebook…

 

Too dangerous. If his suspicions had even a little ground, then having his notebook on his person with all of those dangerous questions… It was just too dangerous.

 

“You okay?” Virgil’s voice pulled him out of his trance-like state, and suddenly they were face to face, and Logan didn’t know what to say, or how to say it.

 

“I, um, I need to talk to you,” he said, forcing his voice to be as calm and professional as possible. “Urgently,” he added, fingers tapping away in his pocket. Virgil nodded slowly, taking a step back.

 

“Right here, or…?”

 

“Here is fine,” Logan took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm his racing heart. “Look, I need you to be as honest as you can, please.”

 

“Of course,” Virgil nodded, looking more serious now.

 

“What exactly is going on here?” Logan began. “I mean, how could I get hurt if I’m  _ already dead?  _ Because I remember dying, and you’ve said before that I died, that everyone here died, but it doesn’t make sense.”

 

“You…” Virgil took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists. “You’re…”

 

“I’m what?” Logan crossed his arms, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. “I’m afraid, Virgil, because  _ none of this makes sense,  _ and I don’t know why I was expecting it to.”

 

“It’s not… it’s not right, here,” Virgil gasped, holding his hands over his stomach. Logan stared, eyes widening with concern. “AfterLife. It’s  _ wrong. _ ”

 

“Wrong?” Logan whispered, arms reaching for Virgil. He shook, doubling over in pain.

 

“Wrong,” he said shakily. “D-don’t…. Don’t ask anything else, please.”

 

“But…”

 

“We have a mission to go on, Logan,” Virgil seemed to be recovering now, straightening his back and placing his hands, still shaking, in his pockets. “I can talk to you later, I promise that I will, but we can’t lose focus right now.”

 

“I understand,” Logan said hollowly, following Virgil into the mission center. His head was only more clouded now, only filled with more questions. The biggest one being: what the hell was wrong with Virgil Mallory?

 

°•°

 

Logan barely managed to concentrate long enough to get through the mission, his focus returning for the battle (and retreating the moment they returned to base). Virgil asked him to meet with him later if he needed to talk, and promptly set off down the hall, Roman following close after. Logan was forced to go back to his room, no motivation left to go to a rec room or even to dinner. Not yet, anyway.

 

It was after half an hour of restless tossing and turning that Logan realized that he wouldn’t be getting to sleep so early. Frustratedly, he left his room again, passing the cafeteria, and to his own surprise, the rec rooms as he wandered aimlessly down the hallways.

 

It was after twenty minutes of this that he found himself, again, at the large doors that sat alone in the hallway, joined only by the blue stripe on the wall. Again, there were voices coming from within, one of which was somewhat familiar. He’d heard it the last time he’d been here, and again, somewhere else.

 

“...don’t have to do any of this,” it pleaded, sounding desperate.

 

“You don’t know that,” a new one growled. “You don’t know anything.”

 

“But I  _ do, _ Dee, please-”   
  


“Please  _ what?”  _ the second voice laughed, high and cold and absolutely terrifying. “I’m not going to stop this, not until things are right.”

 

“But they’re  _ not _ right, they’re  _ wrong.” _

 

“Well, that’s what you see,” the second voice scoffed. “I’ve always been more of a visionary than you, don’t deny it.”

 

“Things can be fixed. There’s wrong out there, yes, but we can work on that  _ together.” _

 

“You won’t get to work with me if you keep trying this. I’ve been too patient with you, as, I’ll admit, I’m rather fond of you. But I will not hesitate to dispose of you if you don’t find yourself to be more cooperative. Are we understood?”   
  


There was silence then, stretching on and on the longer Logan listened to it. Finally, he stepped away, backing up down the hallway. He turned the corner, then turned around, facing forwards now as he walked. 

 

_ What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck _

 

His heart was pounding in his chest, his loose thoughts twirling around in his head to match. He stumbled forward, catching himself on a wall. He took a few deep breaths, his hand pressed to his chest.  _ It’s okay,  _ he told himself.  _ None of this matters. It’s okay.  _

 

After a few moments, when he managed to calm himself down, he took off down the hallway, angry and afraid but somehow calmer than he’d been in days. He searched through each rec room, visited the library, and even went to the training deck in search of Virgil. Finally, he went back to his room, grabbing his datapad off the desk.

 

He began to type out a new message for Virgil when he realized he already had one, dated nearly an hour ago. He opened it immediately, reading through it with tired eyes.

 

_ Meet me in my room if you still want to talk - it’s room 1219, if you needed to know. Be quick. _

 

Logan set the datapad down, leaving again, moving down the hall to find Virgil’s room. He pushed all thoughts from his head, counting his steps, counting the doors, counting the room numbers. 1209. 1210. 1211. 1212. 1213. 1214. 1215. 1216. 1217. 1218.

 

  1. He was here.



 

He hesitated, swaying outside the door for a moment. He shook his head, holding up his watch. The door responded by sliding open, revealing a rather dark abode, though not dark enough to obscure the man sitting on the bed.

 

“Logan,” he greeted, turning up the lights as the door closed. “It’s nice to see you here.”

 

“And you,” Logan’s eyes flitted around the room, examining some of the posters and pictures on the wall. “I got your message. Are you sure you’re able to talk? You weren’t exactly…”

 

“I wasn’t exactly what?” Virgil had turned his head to the side, the confusion clearly painted on his face. “I don’t remember sending anything, Lo.”

 

“But….” Logan reached into his pocket, cursing under his breath when he realized he’d left the datapad in his room again. “Well, you said to meet up with you later if I still wanted to talk, and then you messaged me your room number.”

 

“Weird,” Virgil frowned. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

 

“Well, I wanted to ask you about what you said in the hallway,” Logan shifted his weight from foot to foot. “About… About AfterLife being wrong?”

 

Virgil stared at him, brows furrowed in concentration. He sat back down on his bed, clasping his hands together.

 

“Logan, I don’t remember saying anything about that,” he said gently. “I’m not sure who or what you’re thinking of, but I didn’t say anything like that.”

 

“You didn’t?” Logan wanted to scream, he wanted to pound his fists into the wall, he wanted to cry and shout and force this stupid, stupid world to start making sense.

 

“I didn’t,” Virgil smiled, though he very obviously looked concerned. “You might do well to speak to Dr. Picani. You remember him, right?”

 

“I remember,” Logan sniffled, his fingers twitching in his pocket. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I… I must be tired.”

 

“Get some sleep,” Virgil agreed. “Let’s hope you’re feeling better in the morning.”

 

“Yeah,” Logan said dryly. “Let’s.”


	9. Red and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan plays through his first training game, but quickly gets distracted.

_ Training game tomorrow. You're not required to participate, but it'd be really fun if you did. Message me tonight/tomorrow morning or talk to me at breakfast for more info. _

 

Logan read through Roman's message immediately after waking, and he couldn’t deny that there was a small amount of excitement bubbling up in his chest at the prospect of a training game. There hadn’t yet been one in his time at AfterLife (although according to Talyn, their impromptu game of capture the flag/paintball was a very close approximation), and he had been somewhat intrigued by the concept from the first day.

 

Deciding that the game would be a much-needed distraction, Logan got dressed and set out for the cafeteria, hoping to intercept Roman before he left. Luckily, the training instructor was in line for food, looking like he had barely woken up. Logan followed him through the line, tailing him all the way to the table. Roman didn’t notice him until he’d sat down and cleared his throat.

 

“Oh, good morning,” he cleared his throat, offering a tired smile. “Did you get my message about the game today?”

 

“I did,” Logan confirmed, holding up his datapad for a moment. “Do I have to sign up for it or something?”

 

“No, no,” Roman laughed. “Just show up to the training deck at noon if you want to play. If your team wins, or if you score exceptionally well, you’ll get a chance to do things like decorate your room, or your uniform, stuff like that. I just wanted to make sure you knew about it.”

 

“What will the game be, exactly?”

 

“That’s a secret,” Roman winked. “All I can say is that it’ll be two teams, and you’re on mine. If you’re playing, of course. No pressure.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Logan assured him, digging into his cereal. The two ate in silence, and quickly. Roman left as soon as he was finished, saying that he had to go help set up for the game. Logan finished his food alone, leaving as fast as he could manage. He had things to think about, and from the sound of things, plenty of time to think about it. 

 

°•°

 

The hallways near the training deck were unusually full, though not surprisingly so. Logan hadn’t realized exactly how many agents there were at AfterLife, but the number did seemed to be larger than he expected. Still, it made sense that so many would be interested in the game. From what Joan and Talyn had told him, they were quite the event.

 

The training deck wasn’t open yet, so the vast majority of people were simply standing around in the hall, either talking to each other in small (or, in some cases, very large) groups or staring at their datapads. Logan tried, with low levels of success, to weave his way through the crowd, eventually giving up and leaning against a wall.

 

He checked his watch several times, taking note of the time as it ticked closer to noon. The closer it got, the louder the chatter grew, and the closer the crowd got to 12:00. At one point, Logan heard Talyn yelling something, though he knew trying to find them through the mess of people would be nearly impossible, so he just stayed put. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to speak to his friends normally when everything was so… strange. He didn’t want to make them suspicious that something was wrong.

 

Finally, noon rolled around, and the door to the training deck slid open. Everyone filtered inside, the chatter slowly building up as everyone entered. The first thing Logan noticed as he walked through the doors was that most of the room had been blocked off. Walls - not transparent, this time - had been raised to make a small entrance room, barely large enough to fit everyone. The second thing Logan noticed was his watch beeping - followed by every other person’s watch making the same noise. He quickly turned off the sound, shocked to see the watch face lit up in a block of solid red. By glancing at the wrists of the other agents, he could see that everyone had either a red or blue watch face waiting for them on their watch.

 

On either side of the small room, a section of the wall lifted, opening up two hallways - one lit with red lights, and one with blue. Logan hesitated, then began following half of the crowd to the red hallway. Once he passed through the initial archway, his watch returned to normal, now reading 12:03.

 

He walked down the red hallway surrounded by strangers, and found himself wondering if he’d be lucky enough to have Joan, Talyn or Valerie on his team. Perhaps Virgil, if he were playing. It would be nice to be able to work with someone he knew.

 

After a few moments, the hallway turned, opening into a room that was about the same size as the entrance room. There were two sets of stair and several hallways leading in and out of the room, and at the top of one of the sets of stairs, Roman.

 

“Red team!” he greeted, earning a great cheer from the crowd. “Welcome to today’s game. Is everyone familiar with laser tag?” the crowd cheered as an affirmative. “Wonderful! Today’s game will basically be that, but with objects. If you find any of the powerpacks,” he held up a large glowing ring of fabric, “in either team’s color, and you bring it back to your team’s base - this room, for us - you get points. Bringing back a blue power pack will be worth double the points of a red power pack, and you can only carry two at a time. The game is also set in a maze - you could say we’re playing  _ maze _ r tag!”

 

The crowd erupted in pained groans, and Logan was right there with them. As brilliant as the pun was, he just hated it - that, and the victorious grin on Roman’s face.”

 

“Everyone will be getting a weapon and a change of color for their uniform,” Roman continued as the crowd quieted down. “This is to make sure you can’t infiltrate teams, and so you don’t hit your own teammates. If you see a player in a blue uniform, blast them with your weapon. It will sting if you get hit, but it will only last for a moment and it won’t do much more than that. Good luck, red team. You better win this shit.”

 

Logan chuckled as Roman walked down the stairs, weaving through the crowd of amused agents to get to him.

 

“You ready for this?” he clapped a hand down on his shoulder, and Logan frowned, unaware that he had been snuck up on.

 

“Not really,” he admitted. “I’m worried that… I’m worried that I won’t do well.”

 

_ I’m worried that this is a stupid waste of my time. I should be figuring out what’s wrong with Virgil. _

 

“You’ll do great!” Roman assured him. “The two of us can stick together, how does that sound?”

 

“It sounds alright,” Logan nodded. “It’d be nice, actually.”

 

_ It’d be nice to get home, to be free, to know what the hell I’m doing.  _

 

“Wonderful! The game’s going to start in a moment - a light-gun is going to appear in your hand in just a minute, so don't freak out about that,” Roman smiled. “You might feel a bit cold as your uniform changes color, mass sweeps tend to have that effect, but it’s completely normal. You ready to win this?”

 

“I’m ready to play,” Logan compromised, his lips pulling into a tight smile. “We’ll see about winning later.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Roman shook his head, a light-gun appearing in his hand. Logan held one too, though he nearly dropped it as he felt a chill run down his spine. He looked down to see his clothes as a deep blood red. “That suits you,” Roman commented, pointing at him.

 

“Thanks. Are we going to start this thing, or…?”   
  


“Right,” Roman ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time to beat anyone else through the maze. “I know the layout of the maze pretty much by heart, seeing as I spent a couple hours designing the thing - but I have no clue where the power packs were placed.”

 

“We should run circuits,” Logan proposed, following Roman blindly. “Go around the maze in as many spots as possible, then loop back to base. Might find a couple blue agents that way, as well as power packs.”

 

“Nice thinking,” Roman had them turn left, then held up a hand. “I think I hear someone up ahead,” he explained, crouching as he slowly stepped forward. 

 

The two walked slowly, staying low and close to the wall, but didn’t find anyone for several twists and turns of the maze. They did find a blue powerpack, however, and after a bit of arguing (both between themselves and with a few passing teams of red players), Logan took it for his own.

 

“This place is so empty,” Roman complained, jumping onto a ledge. Logan stared as he crawled into a small tunnel-like area, emerging seconds later with two power packs, red and blue. “You take the red one,” he tossed it down to Logan before jumping down. 

 

“Su-” Logan yelped and leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding a beam from a light-gun. Three blue players ran right towards them, light-guns brandished.

 

“Eat it, Roman,” one o them yelled, noticing exactly who they’d cornered. They raised their light-gun, shooting Roman in the arm twice - or, they meant to, at least. Roman had already dodged out of the way, jumping up to the same ledge he’d grabbed the power packs from.

 

Logan hissed, glaring at him for a moment before raising his own weapon against their foes. He managed to shoot at two of them before getting hit himself, stumbling back from the unpleasant stinging in his chest. Growing tired of this, Logan sent a glance up to Roman, who was somehow being ignored through all of this, and raised a hand. Ice crystals began to form on his fingertips, asking a silent question. In the darkness, Roman nodded.

 

Logan shot at the players one more time before raising his arms, blasting them back with a wall of ice. They yelled as they were slammed against the wall, then made a great decision to run the other way. Roman hopped down, dusting his shoulder off. Logan shoved him lightly as he dropped to the floor.

 

“Thanks for abandoning me,” he joked, adjusting his glasses. 

 

“Oh, you took care of them well enough,” Roman waved a hand. “Everything worked out perfectly. Exactly as I’d planned.”

 

“You planned this?” Logan scoffed, following Roman as they turned to the right, evidently heading back to base.

 

“Of course! I plan ahead for everything,” he ran forward, stopping right before he got to a blue power pack hanging from the wall. “You might want to get ready to run,” he warned, reaching for the power pack slowly. He snatched the thing off the wall, and the lights in the hallway turned a bright red, flashing every few seconds. 

 

“What the hell?!” Logan hissed, dashing for the end of the hallway, where a wall was slowly descending from the ceiling. He slipped through right after Roman, nearly missing his chance entirely. From the other side of the wall - which was transparent, unlike any of the others used to make up the maze - they could see the room filling up with some sort of gas.

 

“Sleeping gas,” Roman explained, panting. “There are traps all over this maze. Come on.”

 

Logan blinked, frustration growing as he followed Roman through the maze.

 

°•°

 

They managed to make it around the top level of the maze three more times before Roman informed him they were out of original paths.

 

“We could get closer to the blue base, but any power packs around there are likely to already be collected,” he fiddled with his light-gun, finger twitching above the trigger. They had a bigger group now, having met up with Joan and Talyn along their second run - the two had been hopelessly lost, their conflicting senses of direction stopping the group from getting anywhere.

 

“We can risk it,” Talyn mused. “It’s probably not that bad. Most everyone is on the bottom floors right now.”

 

“We  _ cannot  _ risk it,” Logan crossed his arms. “If we’re ambushed there, it’ll be by tons of blue players. Getting hit that much will greatly decrease the point gain we’ve brought for our team-”

 

“Lighten up, Logan,” Roman scoffed, an arrogant grin taking over his features. “What’s there to worry about, really?”

 

“There’s a lot to worry about,” Logan glared. “ _ This  _ is just a game, but there’s so much to worry about, to think about, outside of this, and - unlike you - I do that a lot! I  _ think  _ I would know what the best option would be, at least better than you-”

 

“What do you ever have to worry about?” Roman raised an eyebrow, no longer smiling. Joan and Talyn shared a look, slowly taking a step back. “Everything is perfect here, you’re just being ridiculous.”

 

“I hate to break it to you,  _ Princey,  _ but-”

 

“Can we, uh, get back to the game?” Talyn cut in, drawing attention from all three people. “I get the feeling that whatever this is, it might be better discussed after we win.”

 

“You guys do whatever,” Roman huffed. “I’ll meet up with you after the game.”

 

Before anyone could stop him (and Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to), Roman had ran off down one of the hallways, light-gun already firing off shot after shot.

 

“Well, if we’re ready to go,” Joan said carefully, “we should get moving.”

 

“Yeah,” Logan took a deep breath. “Let’s win this stupid thing.”

 

°•°

 

The red team did manage to win, pulling through at the last second as Mica ran into base with two blue power packs around their waist. The room erupted into cheers, almost covering the gong sound that signalled the ending of the game. The walls fell, one by one, leaving the training room seeming larger than ever. The light-guns and power packs disappeared, and on the wall, a large scoreboard flashed - showing that the red team had, in fact, beaten the blue team.

 

Most of the players moved towards the center of the room, feeling much less cramped as they made their way to friends, either to mock them or congratulate them (or both, in a few cases). Logan was quickly making his way towards the door, though, with Roman not far ahead of him. They were some of the only people leaving so early, but they both knew that they had things to talk about.

 

“Roman, I’m sorry for snapping at you during the game,” Logan sighed, catching up to him as they walked down the hall. “I should have better controlled my temper.”

 

“It’s alright,” Roman looked towards the ground. “I can understand feeling overwhelmed -  a lot of people experience this after joining AfterLife, so-”

 

“I’m not overwhelmed,” Logan interrupted. “I’m just upset. I have questions, and nobody’s answering them, and I feel like I’m messing everything up by asking.”

 

“What kind of questions?” Roman had stopped now, and was staring at him intently, studying every nuance of his expression. “What kind of questions, Logan?”

 

“Questions about AfterLife,” he gulped, taking a slow step back. “And about…. about Virgil.”

 

“Logan, word of advice - don’t ask those questions.”

 

Logan took another step back, examining Roman’s serious expression.

 

“What?”

 

“Just keep quiet about things, alright? Things aren’t the best right now, I admit, but they’ll only get worse if you pry into matters that don’t concern you. Leave this to the professionals, alright?”

 

“Alright,” Logan muttered, rubbing his forearm. Roman nodded at him, gave him a quick pat on the shoulder, then walked away, leaving Logan more lost and confused than he had felt in a long, long time.


	10. Cutting The Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan goes on a solo mission, and Virgil goes missing.

_ Agent Prayan,  _

 

_ Enclosed in this contact are the details regarding your solo mission today. This will serve as a test of your skills so far, and will help us determine how much more training is required before you are instated as a proper agent. If you have any questions, please contact your training instructor and initiation manager, Roman Diaz. _

 

_ Signed, Management.  _

 

Logan read through the message several times, specifically the instructions for inputting coordinates and turning on the station without patching in. He was a bit nervous to try this on his own, though Roman had assured him he would do fine. He hadn’t missed the nervousness in Roman’s voice and expression when he said that, however.

 

Logan sighed, entering the mission center. It was rather full again today, but the station he had used for previous missions was open. He sat down, hesitating for a moment. With a shake of his head, he pressed the blue button on his panel, then pulled down the projecting limb from the top of the station.

 

As expected, a holographic screen and keyboard materialized in front of him, and he quickly typed in the coordinates and mission information provided in the contact. Once he was done, he pressed the green and pink buttons, then pushed the screens away. The smaller limbs wrapped around his forehead, an experience that he still wasn’t comfortable with, and honestly, might never be. Oh well.

 

_ “Connection established. No additional agents connecting, please confirm.” _

 

“Confirm,” Logan said shakily. Almost immediately, his vision faded out, and, like the times before this, he appeared in the mindscape. This time, he waited for no one, marching forward on his own. He pressed a hand to the wall, and the doorway of darkness opened. He stepped through immediately, marveling at the city building up around him. On the right side of his vision, a holographic screen appeared, showing a map-like image with two icons on it - him, and the dark cloud he was supposed to be fighting.

 

He summoned his staff, walking towards it. He kept walking until it appeared, on his map, that he was right next to it. He looked around in confusion, not seeing anything near him.

 

Logan yelled and he was thrown to the ground, the concrete under his feet bursting open to let free a dark cloud. He jumped at it immediately, jabbing it with his staff. The thing blocked his attacks perfectly, and, to his surprise, simply hovered in front of him.

 

He swung at it again, and again, it dodged. He raised his free hand and blasted ice at it, but it just moved away. The icy crystals chased the thing all over the sky, around buildings, around cars and people and even back to where Logan stood. He raised his staff and slashed at it, trapping it between a wall of ice and his weapon.

 

Still, it just hovered, almost like it was watching him.

 

“What is  _ with  _ you?” he growled, ice growing from his fingers. The creature moved in what could only be described as a shrug. “Why won’t you just fight back?”

 

It shrugged again, backing up against the ice as Logan moved closer to it.

 

“Can you just come with me, if you’re not going to fight?” he asked exasperatedly, and the cloud shrugged again. It moved closer to him for a moment, and Logan pulled one of the white and blue orbs from the air, ready to capture it. It froze then, shaking slightly. It began to back up, its form burning against the ice in an attempt to get away.

 

“What the hell?” Logan whispered. It began to shake, curling in on itself, smoke pouring from its injuries. Then it shot towards the sky, disappearing before Logan could make a single move.

 

He stood there for a moment, staring at the clouds, wondering what had just happened.

 

°•°

 

“You tried your best,” Roman said. “You just need to train a little more, that’s all.”

 

“Yeah,” Logan pushed the eggs around on his plate.

 

“Look, it was a mistake, but…” he trailed off, looking down at the table. Logan couldn’t miss the relief in his eyes. “Some mistakes can lead to great victories later. It’s no big deal.”

 

“There’s a dark cloud on the loose, Roman,” he sighed. “Because of me.”

 

“Yeah,” Roman gave him a careful smile. “And it’ll be okay.”

 

Logan finished his food and began to clear his plate, only speaking again right before he left.

 

“Do you know where Virgil is?”

 

Roman’s gaze darkened. He took another bite of food, scrolling through information on his datapad.

 

“Roman, do you know where Virgil is?”

 

He didn’t even look up.

 

“Whatever, I’ll find him myself.”

 

°•°

 

Logan groaned, kicking the wall in frustration. Virgil hadn’t been anywhere that he checked, and he’d checked every room he could think of. He wasn’t training, he wasn’t eating, he wasn’t in any of the rec rooms, or the library, or his own room, and he wasn’t on a mission.

 

So where the hell was he?

 

Familiar voices echoed down the hallway - Roman and Dr. Picani. Logan paused, waiting for them to turn the corner and start walking towards him before he approached.

 

“Roman,” he said quietly, stopping their conversation, “do you mind if I ask you something?”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“What happened to Virgil?”

 

Roman froze, staring at Logan with the most antler-in-headlights look he’d ever seen. Dr. Picani was also giving him a stare, though it was more confused (as opposed to absolutely terrified).

 

“Who’s Virgil?” Picani asked.

 

“What do you mean, ‘who’s Virgil?’” Logan snapped his attention over to Dr. Picani who was now looking more confused than concerned.

 

“Logan, I think you’re a bit stressed,” Picani offered a thin smile. “Maybe you ought to go take a nap, try to relax. You’re just confused.”

 

“I’m not confused,” Logan sighed. “Roman, you tell him.”

 

“I’m afraid that I also don’t know who you’re talking about,” Roman shook his head. “You should try and get some rest, Lo.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Logan crossed his arms, looking towards the floor.

 

“Logan, can I talk to you in private?” Picani glanced between the two, stepping back to allow them to have their conversation.

 

“Roman, I’ll be in my office if you need to find me,” he said, retreating down the hall.

 

“Logan, I really meant it when I said you need to stop asking so many questions,” Roman muttered, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to guide him down the hall. “You shouldn’t worry about Virgil, alright?”

 

“Why not?” Logan hissed, breaking away from the embrace. “What’s going on?”

 

“Virgil will be back soon,” Roman promised. “And if he’s not, that’s just another reason to stop asking about it.”

 

“But-”

 

“Just trust me, Logan,” Roman pleaded. “Please, just let me handle this.”

 

“Good luck,” Logan spat. “This place is a fucking mess, so you’re gonna need that.”

 

“Yeah,” Roman muttered. “I think I will.”


	11. Into The Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan enlists Roman to help him find Virgil.

Logan walked towards the large doors, fingers running along the blue stripe on the wall. He was sick and tired of being lied to, and for some reason, he just  _ knew  _ that if he did this, he’d get the truth. He needed truth right now, above all else, he needed the truth.

 

He held up his watch, and the door beeped, though didn’t slide open. He was about to try it again when there was a clicking sound, and then he was stepping inside the room, doors sliding apart for him. It appeared to be a rather nice office, though  _ very  _ different from the aesthetic of AfterLife. The floors were carpeted, the walls had a nice beige wallpaper, and there were a few bookshelves on one wall. A fireplace sat on the left side of the room, and in the center, a desk.

 

“What do you want?” there was a man at the desk. He looked almost bored, examining his fingernails as he spoke.

 

“I want to speak to whoever’s in charge here,” Logan knew now that he must have come to the right place - who would have such a lavish office other than the boss, the leader, the head honcho?

 

“Present,” the man sighed, adjusting the cardigan tied around his shoulders. “Make it snappy, Agent Prayan.”

 

“What happened to Vi-  to Agent Mallory?”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognize that-”

 

“You knew me, and I’ve barely been here two months,” Logan snapped. “You had damn well better tell me where Virgil is.”

 

“There is no Agent Mallory employed here at this time,” the man stated, a sly grin resting on his face. 

 

“So where  _ is  _ he-”

 

“I would suggest,” the man interrupted, standing and slamming his hands down on the desk, “that you quit asking such questions. Keep it up, and soon enough, someone may wonder the same things about you.”

 

“I… I’m...”

 

“...leaving,” the man finished for him. He snapped his fingers and the doors slid open, revealing the hallway, so bright in comparison to the dark office. “If you have anything important to ask, feel free to come back then.”

 

Logan stumbled into the hallway as if pushed by some unseen force. Before he could even turn around, the doors had slid shut.

 

“No,” he gasped. “No, that’s not…”

 

He paused, glancing at the doors behind him. They stared back quietly, offering no answers. No truth. Nothing.

 

“Roman,” he muttered. “Roman will know what to do.”

 

°•°

 

“Logan, I’m sorry,” Roman sighed. “I just can’t.”

 

“You know that something’s happening, that something’s wrong, why can’t you-”

 

“I just  _ can’t,”  _ Roman hissed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “You have to understand, Logan, things have changed. I’m not as free as I…. I can’t help you.”

 

“You just have to tell me how to get to him,” he reasoned. “I don’t even need you to come with me, just help me to get there; I know that you know.”

 

“I can’t tell you,” Roman shook his head. “There’s more at stake here than just him, and I’m sorry, I know that hurts-”

 

“What else is there?” Logan spat, plopping down on Virgil’s bed. “He’s alive, isn’t he? Isn’t it worth the risk to keep it that way?”

 

Roman stared at the floor, his foot tapping anxiously against the smooth white. Several emotions crossed over his face - fear, hope, pain - but he didn’t speak for several moments. Finally, he sighed.

 

“I can help,” he agreed. “I… I  _ will  _ help. But you have to understand that what I can do for you is severely limited.”

 

“What can you do, then?”

 

“I can get you on the right path,” he looked up. “I can keep certain people from asking about you, but not for long, and not everyone. I can’t protect you, or Virgil, or… anyone else if things go wrong, so you had better be careful.”

 

“That’s more than enough.”

 

“Not really,” Roman sighed, joining Logan on the bed. “None of that is enough to make up for getting you into this mess in the first place.”

 

“Look, it’s not your fault that I died and somehow ended up in hell,” Logan joked. Roman smiled, just a little bit, but it was a nice sight all the same. “We’re going to find him, and fix this. We can do it.”

 

“You can do it,” Roman corrected, standing. “And you had better do it fast.”

 

“Right,” Logan mirrored his motion, stretching his arms as he stood. “Well, lead the way.”

 

The two left Virgil’s room, turning the lights all the way down, and marched down the hallways of AfterLife. Logan ignored the questioning stares of the other agents as he followed Roman, feeling a little bad as he passed by Joan. They started to talk to him, cutting themself off as they realized how determined Logan looked.

 

“Whatever you’re doing,” they whispered, following him for a just a moment, “I hope it works out.”

 

Logan nodded, offering them a quick smile before they branched off, heading into one of the rec rooms. He kept moving, following Roman until he noticed the blue stripe on the wall.

 

“Roman?” he breathed, glancing between the stripe and the instructor. “Where are we going, exactly?”

 

“To Virgil,” he answered, glancing at the stripe himself. “You trust me, don’t you?”

 

“Is he in that office?”   
  


“You trust me, don’t you?” Roman repeated, stepping closer to Logan. “I can’t say where he is, but I can show you.”

 

“He is, isn’t he?” Roman didn’t answer, just sighed, turning back around and marching onwards. Logan followed, eyes fixed on the blue stripe on the wall. He wasn’t surprised when they stopped in front of the doors, the same place the stripe stopped. 

 

“That door has a lock,” Logan pointed out, remembering his earlier visit. “How are you planning on getting in?”

 

Roman didn’t answer. Instead, he began whistling an unfamiliar tune. A few seconds after he finished, the doors beeped and slid open, and the two walked inside the empty office. 

 

“He’s not in here,” Logan’s eyes swept over the room, searching for some sort of clue, some secret that would be revealed.

 

“Thank you, Sherlock,” Roman muttered, closing the doors with a snap of his fingers. He walked over to the farthest bookcase, reaching for one of the titles on the top shelf. He pulled it down, opening it to flip through the pages.

 

“Is this really the time-” Roman help up a hand, and Logan sighed, trailing off. Roman grabbed a keycard from the book’s pages, handing it to Logan.

 

“See that small crack in the wall?” he pointed to the tiny strip of wall between the bookcase and the corner of the room, where there was indeed a small crack. Logan nodded, walking over to it. “Stick that in there.”

 

“I hardly think-”

 

“Oh, just do it, Watson!” he rolled his eyes, mimicking a british accent. Logan huffed, pressing the keycard into the crack. There was a quiet beeping sound, and then-

 

The bookshelf slid into the floor, revealing a long hallway that led to a door.

 

“Is he back there?” Logan whispered, peering down the hall. Roman shrugged. “Come on, can’t you…”

 

Roman shook his head, his hands trembling. He offered a shaky smile to Logan, pointing down the hallway.

 

“Go,” he said, his voice tight with pain. Logan glanced at him in concern, but… he had to find Virgil.

 

“Be careful, Roman,” he took a step into the hallway.

 

“You can do this, Logan,” he said, stepping back. Logan nodded.

 

The bookshelf rose up from the floor, and a panel of futuristic white wall slid over that. Logan stared down the hallway, heart pounding in his chest.

 

He took a step forward, bursting into a sprint. He had made it. He would find him. He would fix this.

  
He was just one step away.


	12. Shadows Lifted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several things are revealed to Logan.

Logan walked to the end of the hallway, hands resting on the door that sat there. He stepped back, searching the walls and surrounding area for a way to open it. His eyes landed on a small panel, barely raised from the wall, with an odd symbol etched on it. He ran his fingers over the engraved lines, and the door clicked, slowly sliding open.

 

Behind the door, there was a large room, looking like some evil scientist’s laboratory. In the corner, there was a wall of buzzing energy, and behind it, a swarm of dark shapes. In the center, there was a great machine, humming slightly. Off to the side, there was the man with the cardigan, passed out and handcuffed to a table. He had a large bruise on the side of his face, as well as some blood crusted on his forehead - nothing that could have formed in the short hour since he’d seen him last.

 

Logan ran over to him, checking his wrist for a pulse. A part of him relaxed when he found one, though he tensed up again when he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled around, finding himself face to face with an unfamiliar man. His face was decorated with scars, dark and red. He grinned at Logan, a slightly unhinged look shining in his eyes.

 

“Ah, how lovely of you to join us,” his grin widened, and Logan stepped back, his back now pressed against the wall. The man stepped forward, and Logan dashed across the room, moving to the strange energy field in the corner. His eyes widened as he realized that he’d abandoned the man in the cardigan, but there was nothing he could do.

 

He looked around wildly for a weapon, or at least something he could use to defend himself as the man approached. He settled on a semi-familiar looking orb, brown with gold patterns. He held it in one hand, getting ready to launch it at the man if he got any closer.

 

The man paused, eyes narrowing as he saw the object in Logan’s hands. He glanced at the shadows beyond the energy field, then began to laugh.

 

“I would  _ love  _ to see you try and use that,” he said. “It would be wonderful to watch you kill the man you came here for,” he flicked his wrist and the energy field fell for a moment. Logan jumped, skittering back as the shadows within poured out into the room - dark clouds. The man sighed and flicked his wrist again, sending all but one of them back into the corner.

 

Logan backed up, staring at the only remaining cloud. It shook in the air, like it was trying to move, but just  _ couldn’t.  _ Something about this…

 

“It’s you,” he whispered, and the man chuckled.

 

“Point that orb there at this thing,” he instructed, and Logan glared at him. “Then press the insignia carved on it.”

 

Logan glared, hand tightening around the object. He would do no such thing, especially not with this madman telling him to.

 

“Fine,” he sighed, looking genuinely annoyed. Logan gasped as something cold wrapped around his spine, traveling through every bone in his body until there was nothing left but a cold, numbed sensation. Despite his best efforts, his arm rose, pointing the object at the dark cloud, still shivering in the air. He groaned, pulling his finger away from the button, trying to drop the orb-

 

The man rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. Logan pressed down on the pattern carved into the orb, and a beam of light flew at the creature. It writhed in pain for a moment, the light traveling through its form, and then it fell to the ground.

 

The ice retreated from Logan’s bones, leaving him shaking from something else, a different kind of cold. He fell to his knees, shaking. Virgil’s unconscious form hit the floor, tearing a groan from his lips, and Logan wanted to cry, because he was here, he was  _ alive, he was okay,  _

 

The man stepped forward, grabbing the orb from Logan’s hand. He made quick work of restraining Logan, who was too confused to fight back. Was he overjoyed? Was he terrified? Did he feel guilty, or was he relieved? He couldn’t begin to process the thoughts flying through his head, and by the time he realized that he needed to, he was already in restraints, sitting next to an unconscious Virgil and a very apologetic cardigan-man (he should really learn his name).

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but Logan didn’t respond, just stared at Virgil, who had been here all along, who had tried to tell him, who had tried to get him to see…

 

“I’ll be back,” the other man said, tossing the orb from hand to hand. He shuddered, his features adjusting, changing, until they looked like the cardigan man’s, though a much crueler smile sat on his face. He left, the door clicking shut behind him, and only then did Logan take a breath.

 

“I’m so, so sorry,” the cardigan-man repeated. “This is all my fault, I…”

 

“How?” Logan asked, his voice hollow. “How was this your fault?”

 

“I let him in,” he said. “That man was my brother. He never was very strong with magic, but he overpowered me. He took over, he changed  _ everything,  _ and nobody even  _ remembers…” _

 

“What did he change?” Logan asked, already fiddling with his restraints. He couldn’t seem to channel his powers, though he knew that if he could, breaking out would be a piece of cake.

 

“The company. It wasn’t supposed to… to be like this. It was just supposed to be a safe place, an organization that would train those prone to the mystic arts.”

 

“Mystic arts?” Logan asked. “Is that what our powers are?”

 

“Yeah,” cardigan-man sniffled. “And we were supposed to use them for good, but Deceit-”

 

“Deceit?” Logan interrupted, wincing as he rubbed his wrist against the metal of his cuffs. “Is that your brother’s name?”

 

“No, but I don’t remember his actual-”

 

“You don’t know your own brother’s name?”

 

“He messes with memories,” cardigan-man leaned back, resting his head against the table. “That’s why I don’t know his name, and that’s why everyone thinks they’re dead. He thought that people would be less likely to try to go home if they thought that they couldn’t.”

 

Logan’s eyes widened, heart pounding as he confirmed something that he’d already suspected, already knew. He wasn’t dead. He had never been, it was just a trick, a  _ stupid  _ trick, and he had fallen for it. It sounded so stupid, now, thinking about it…

 

“So, how did I get here?” Logan asked.

 

“He kidnapped you,” cardigan-man sighed. “Not personally. He had agents do it, and then he erased their memories.”

 

“Why do you even remember any of this?”

 

“Well, a few of us noticed, very early on, that he was plotting against the Haven - that’s what this place was called, before he took over - and we took preventative measures. I wasn’t able to get the protection out to everyone, but I was able to put a protection spell on a few of my closest friends.”

 

“Virgil and Roman,” Logan realized. “And yourself?”

 

Cardigan-man shrugged. “I held out for awhile. It was hard, though, with Deceit thinking that I was under his control. Eventually, he realized that I wasn’t, and… Well, you can see how that turned out,” he gestured to his bruised face.

 

“How did he control you? You said that he wasn’t stong with magic, or mystic arts, so how did he manage to overpower you?”

 

His expression darkened, his gaze shifted to the floor. “He converted people - the people we promised to train and protect - to pure energy. Dark clouds? Those are the ‘agents’ you work with.”

 

“So missions…” Logan felt a horrible ache rising in his chest. 

 

“He sends agents after the escaped energy spirits,” cardigan-man nodded. “And when they return, if they managed to escape in the first place, they’re used to boost his powers. To make him stronger.”

 

Logan turned to stare at Virgil, still unconscious on the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back. Virgil, who had been converted into  _ energy.  _ Virgil, who would have died to give this villain power.

 

“We have to stop him,” Logan realized.  _ “I  _ have to stop him.”

 

“This isn’t your mess,” cardigan-man shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to fix any of this.”

 

“Maybe I want to,” Logan said. “I’m already mixed up in all of this, and it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

 

Cardigan-man smiled, his eyes shining despite the weariness. “You’re a good guy, Logan.”

 

“Thank you, uh…”

 

“Patton.”

 

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan smiled back. “Now, let’s go kick some ass.”


	13. Know The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman sheds some light on Patton, Deceit, and AfterLife.

Logan may have jumped the gun a bit with the whole ass-kicking thing. See, he was still having some trouble breaking through his restraints, and while Patton’s encouragement was appreciated, it was hardly helpful.

 

“You’ve got this, Lo-Lo!” he exclaimed, watching Logan’s face twist with pain as he pulled at the cuffs. “I believe in you.”

 

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Logan huffed, his wrists stinging from being pulled in every direction imaginable. “This isn’t working.”

 

“Oh, don’t say that,” Patton frowned. “I’m sure we can make something work, can’t we?”

 

“You try, then,” Logan growled, flopping back against the table. “I’ve been at this for forever-”

 

“It’s been ten minutes-”

 

“-and  _ nothing  _ is working-”

 

“-all you’ve been doing is tugging at it-”

 

“-and Deceit could be back any minute now-”

 

“-he’s been gone for hours at a time before, usually days-”

 

“-and I’m really starting to panic!”

 

“Well, I can definitely see that last one,” Patton offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, kiddo.”

 

“‘Kiddo?’”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Logan sighed. “This whole situation is just unreal, you know?”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

“Well, when I first woke up here-”

 

“Okay, I didn’t mean literally,” Patton smiled. “Let’s think about this. You can’t use your powers, can you?”   
  


“No, I think the cuffs are blocking that,” Logan shifted again, trying to pull his wrists away from the cuffs.

 

“I wonder…” Patton trailed off, then started moving closer to Logan. “This might feel a little weird, but let me try something.”

 

“What are you going to- oh.” Logan shuddered as Patton’s fingers brushed against his, a jolt of electricity buzzing between the two. Logan felt a rush in his chest, and ice dancing at his fingertips. With a slight twisting of his wrist, the cuffs were encased in ice, and from there, it was easy to snap them off. He moved on to Patton and Virgil next, breaking the both of them out of their restraints. 

 

“Nice work,” Patton smiled, using the table to climb to his feet. Logan quickly helped him to sit down, seeing how badly he was shaking just from standing. He glanced back to Virgil on the ground.

 

“I’m going to ask exactly what that was later,” Logan decided, rubbing his wrists. “Right now, we need to figure out how to get the both of you out of here.”

 

“I can walk, Logan, you don't have to wo-”

 

“Don’t even start,” Logan shook his head. “I saw how hard you were shaking, I’m not letting you leave unassisted. But I can’t support you and carry Virgil at the same time - and no, you can’t carry him either, I can  _ see  _ how weak you are.”

 

Patton deflated a bit, nodding along to Logan’s words. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “I’ll just stay here. You can take Virgil to Roman, he’ll know how to help, and then you can come back for me. The four of us can work together to stop Deceit.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Logan scooped Virgil into his arms, blushing a little a bit as he did so. If Patton noticed, he said nothing, just gave him an encouraging smile as he made his way to the door.

  
For some reason, Deceit had left it unlocked. Whether it was a mistake or a purposeful decision was unclear to Logan, but he was thankful for it either way. He walked down the hallway, the wall and bookcase retreating as he approached. He wondered how the agents would react to Logan carrying their forgotten friend through the halls. It didn’t stop him from leaving, though it did make him hesitate for a moment. After that, though, he kept moving. Now was no time for hesitation.

 

He found Roman almost immediately, as he appeared to be not-so-subtly waiting for him in the hall. His eyes widened upon seeing Virgil in Logan’s arms, but a smile quickly formed on his lips.

 

“You did it!” he whispered, guiding him down the hall. “I was getting worried, but you did it!”

 

“I think he has a concussion,” Logan said, nodding towards Virgil. “That, or he’s just really, really tired. And Patton - he needs help.”

 

“Is he okay?” Roman asked, leading them towards the medical wing. “Like, he’s alive? He’s not hurt?”

 

“He’s injured,” Logan said, stepping back to let Roman open the door to one of the rooms. “He’s alive, though, and waiting for us to come back and help him. He can’t walk on his own.”

 

“Oh, thank God,” Roman sighed, helping Logan to lay Virgil on the bed. “I was so afraid, after Deceit found out, that he would…. Well, you know.”   
  


“Yeah,” Logan sighed. “I think I get the idea.”

 

“Look, we’re definitely going to help Patton, he’s a very close friend of mine, but he’s dangerous.”

 

“Roman, the man can’t even stand on his own, I don’t think-”

 

“He’s great with the mystic arts,” Roman continued, starting to measure Virgil’s vitals, “and he’s still under Deceit’s control. Not as much, if he helped you escape, and if he was trapped with you, but enough to be a threat.”

 

“How many people are under Deceit’s control?”

 

“Everyone,” Roman said, avoiding Logan’s gaze. “Well, not you, or any of the other newbies, but I am. Patton is. Virgil might be.”

 

“So, how can I trust you, but not Patton?”

 

“I’m not saying you can’t trust him,” Roman rolled his eyes. “I’m just warning you, he’s dangerous. All of us are. If Deceit knew you were out here, I’d probably be trying my best not to kill you right now.”

 

Logan’s gaze flitted down to Roman’s hands, just for a moment, before meeting his eyes again. Roman shook his head.

 

“Look, I’m rather good at fighting it. But Patton isn’t. He was the one who cast the protection spell on Virgil and I, and we’ve been using that to resist Deceit for ages now. But Patton’s spell wasn’t as effective on himself. So, just be careful around him.”

 

“Fine,” Logan agreed. “I have to ask, though - why haven’t you just gotten help? Can’t you contact anyone in the outside world?”

 

“It was an option, for awhile,” Roman sat down on Virgil’s bed, pushing him aside slightly. “But the more power Deceit gained, the harder it was to escape his influence. Soon enough, mission stations, which we barely used before Deceit arrived,  were being monitored by the very people who had wanted to use them to get help. By then, everyone was so deep in Deceit’s spell that they didn’t even remember a time before his intervention.”

 

“And you couldn’t leave without leaving them behind or getting them hurt,” Logan realized.

 

“Yeah. And I’m officially on probation now. He’s onto me, I’m sure.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Logan shook his head. “We’ll fix this.”

 

“God, I hope we can.”

 

The two sat in silence for a moment, the hopes of every agent in the compound hovering over their heads. If they couldn’t solve this, who could?

 

“We need to get Patton,” Logan remembered, standing with a start. “When we get him, we can start coming up with a plan to take down Deceit.”

 

“Sure,” Roman nodded. “I’ve strengthened my protection spell, so I shouldn’t have as much trouble entering the lab.”

 

“Then let’s go.”

 

The two left the room, making sure it was locked, and started down the hall. Despite the urgency of the situation, they made certain not to run or cause a scene, just walk calmly and confidently down the hallway. Once they approached the office, Roman whistled out the same tune he’d used earlier, and the doors slid open. The two stepped inside, Logan pulling the keycard out of his pocket. He slid it into the slit in the wall, tapping his fingers against his leg as the bookshelf slid down.

 

The two entered the passage together, Roman wincing as he stepped over the bookshelf. He took a deep breath, leading Logan down the hall. For once, Logan was okay just following, letting Roman run his fingers along the patch on the wall. He let him lead his way into the room, stepping in after him.

 

“Where’s Patton?” Roman asked, eyes scanning the room. The door slid shut behind them, and a low humming sound filled the room.

 

“I left him by the table, but…” Roman was already racing towards it, checking for any sign of his friend. Logan just pressed his back to the door, noticing how it didn’t just open for him this time. “Roman, I think this is a trap.”

 

Roman looked at the large machine in the center of the room, his eyes widening as the triangular object at its top began to glow.

 

“Yeah,” he gulped. “I think it is.”


	14. Final Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Roman face Deceit with a severe handicap.

Logan stepped back, eyes locked onto the strange machine, humming in the center of Deceit’s lab. The triangular tip of the machine was glowing arcs of electricity launching out every few seconds.

 

“Door,” Roman hissed, scrambling over to Logan, who stood in front of the exit. “Logan, door!”

 

“It’s locked,” Logan whispered back, staring at the machine. The energy build-up was getting worse; lightning-like bolts were shooting through the air every second, then twice every second, then constantly. “Roman, I…. I’m so sorry, I’m…” he couldn’t breathe, or see, or feel. Roman placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“It’s okay,” he said. “There is  _ nothing  _ that you have to be sorry fo-”

 

Logan barely registered that Roman had stopped speaking. Pain coursed through his body, white-hot and powerful. It pulled something from him, leaving a hollow ache in his bones, a deep longing in his soul. The air was pushed from his lungs, and he coughed, gasping, begging to breathe. He vaguely registered his body being tossed against the wall, and he wondered if this had anything to do with the breathlessness, the pain, the lightning surging through his skin.

 

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, echoing through his empty, empty head. He finally managed to pull in a breath, and he rolled himself over, wheezing on the cold floor. He looked, up, and the machine had stopped glowing, stopped shooting lightning. He pressed his eyes closed, relaxing in the darkness.

 

Something in him screamed, and he shot up, heart speeding up. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t lay down and sleep, not here, not now. He had to get up, help Roman-

 

_ Roman.  _

 

Logan jumped to his feet, stumbling and falling against the wall. He found Roman on the floor next to him, blinking up at the ceiling.

 

“Ow,” he managed, pulling himself into a sitting position. Logan pushed himself off the wall, walking to Roman shakily.

 

“What the hell was that?” Logan asked, pulling Roman to his feet, providing a steadying hand as the training instructor threatened to fall over.

 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “That machine is used to infuse Deceit with the stolen powers, but it never looks like that. I thought it was going to…”

 

“Yeah,” Logan swallowed. “Me too.”

 

The door swished open behind them, and Deceit sauntered in, the brown and gold orb resting in his left hand.

 

“Welcome back,” he grinned at the two as they shared a glance. Logan just smirked, raising an arm. He reached into his soul, feeling for that well of power-

 

And he found nothing.

 

He turned to Roman, eyes widening as he saw the fear in his eyes. Roman stumbled back, his fingers twitching at his side.

 

“So that’s what that was,” he whispered, clutching a useless arm to his chest. He stared at Deceit, who was laughing maniacally now.

 

“Oh, you should see the look on your face,” he giggled, tossing the orb to his right hand. Then back to his left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

 

“We can still beat you,” Logan hissed, curling his hands into fists. Deceit’s laughter grew, and he stepped forward, passing right by Logan.

 

“Oh, can you?” he chuckled. Logan launched himself towards him, but Deceit just raised the orb. “I wouldn’t,” he pointed it at Roman, and Logan slowed, stepping back as he realized the threat. “That’s it. Good boy.”

 

Logan glared at him, fists shaking at his sides. Roman was stepping back further now, eyes moving between Deceit and the powerful object sitting in his hand.

 

“Now, you have been nothing but trouble for me,” Deceit sighed. “I would love to let you go, truly, but what kind of example would that set? Not a very good one, Roman.”

 

Roman screamed as a beam of light hit him in the chest. It rippled over his skin, freezing him in place. Logan stared in horror as a pitch-black darkness spread over his skin, pulling him and pushing him until he was barely human shaped, until he was a floating cloud of darkness. He hovered, shaking, and Deceit grinned.

 

“Wonderful,” Deceit whispered. “That was just wonderful,” he snapped his fingers, and the dark cloud - no,  _ Roman  _ \- soared into the corner, not passing the energy field. It didn’t seem to matter, though; he was barely moving. Deceit seemed to think this sufficient, lowering his hand. He turned to Logan.

 

“You’re a monster,” he whispered. Deceit shrugged.

 

“That’s a bit harsh, coming from someone who’s about to be,” he raised the orb again, pointing it right at Logan’s chest. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath as he waited for the beam of light to hit him.

 

All he felt was a slight tingling sensation, starting on his chest, quickly spreading around his skin. He opened his eyes, but saw no light or shadow on his skin. In front of him, Deceit growled.

 

“Impossible,” he hissed, raising the orb again. He pressed a finger on it, and a beam of light shot towards Logan - dissipating as it reached him. Again, a tingling feeling spread out on his skin.

 

The door swished open behind him, and he turned, stumbling back as Patton entered the room. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and great bags rested under his eyes. He nodded at Logan, who stepped back to let him enter.

 

“Is this your doing?” Deceit sneered, and Patton nodded.

 

“I will always protect my friends,” he huffed. Then, surprising everyone (including himself, he would later say), he charged forward, yelling. He knocked Deceit to the floor, throwing punches at his face, chest and arms.

 

“Enough,” Deceit yelled, shoving Patton off of him. He fell to the ground with a thud, struggling to get back on his feet. Deceit kicked him in the forehead, and he went limp. “Now, we can get back on track.”

 

Logan glanced at the object, laying on the floor a few feet behind Deceit, having been knocked out of his hand in the initial attack. He inched forward, trying to keep his gaze away from the thing, but Deceit caught on almost immediately.

 

“Did you want this?” he scooped it up, holding it out to Logan mockingly. Logan glared at him for a second, then dove for it, not feeling even the least bit surprised when Deceit snatched his hand back. Logan raised his hands into fists, using the momentum to throw a good punch. He managed to to hit him in the jaw, fist throbbing from the impact.

 

“I did, actually,” he snarled, elbowing him in the chest with all his might. Deceit stumbled back, still not letting go of the orb. Instead, he pointed it at Logan, trying again to use it on him. Logan dodged the beam quickly, this time, using the distraction to kick him in the chest, sending to the floor. Logan grabbed the orb as it slipped from his Deceit’s hand, running over to Roman in all the commotion.

 

He pointed the orb at him, apologizing before pressing down on the engraving, sending a beam of light towards his shadowy form. Moments later, Roman fell the to floor, breathing heavily. Logan raced towards him, relieved to see him awake.

 

“Th’nks,” he slurred, latching onto Logan’s arm as he came to help him up. He managed to hold himself up, briefly letting go of Logan’s arm to stumble towards the machine. “I’ll get powers back,” he promised. “You fight Deceit.”

 

“On it,” Logan set the orb down and ran back over to Deceit, who was starting to get back up by now. He glared at Logan, flicking his wrists towards him. Logan just smiled as a familiar tingling sensation washed over his skin - he was still under Patton’s protection spell. Deceit seemed to realize this, too, his eyes widening in fear.

 

“I’ll kill you,” he threatened, searching frantically for a physical weapon. Finding nothing, he raised his fists, standing in a defensive position. “I’ll destroy you.”

 

“You’ll try,” Logan agreed, curling his shaking fingers into fists. “But you won’t succeed. Not when I have my friends to protect me.”

 

“Then I’ll kill them too,” Deceit snapped, throwing himself towards Logan with a yell. Logan launched himself to the side, still getting body slammed by Deceit. He groaned as he fell to the ground, all the breath knocked from his lungs. He scrambled to his feet, narrowly dodging a punch. He growled as Deceit launched himself forward again, this time turning to the side and raising his arms protectively as the villain passed.

 

Deceit jumped to his feet, running towards Logan again. Logan gasped as he was knocked to the floor again, a humming sound filling his ears.

 

No, wait. That was…

 

The powers machine began to hum, the triangular tip glowing once more. Deceit yelled leaving Logan and chasing after Roman now, but the damage was done. Logan gasped as a wave of cold washed over him, and something old and familiar and completely  _ him  _ returned to him. He felt complete, ice forming at his fingertips once more. 

 

A ball of fire soared past him, and when he stood, he could see Roman, exhausted and injured, holding off Deceit. Logan caught his eye, and the two grinned, things finally going their way.

 

Logan raised an arm, pushing Deceit against the wall with a blast of ice. He clenched his fingers into his palm, and the ice grew around Deceit’s body, pressing him to the wall.

 

“That’s cold!” he complained, a scowl resting on his face. Logan held him there as Roman tended to the powers machine, flipping a few switches and reactivating it. Deceit’s eyes widened, and he writhed against the ice. The machine started humming once more, and moments later, an arc of lightning hit Deceit, robbing him of his stolen powers.

 

Logan dropped his arm, depositing the defeated villain on the floor, and sighed. A wave of exhaustion hit him, but he didn’t give in yet. He grabbed Patton, carrying him in his arms as he followed Roman from the lab. He hesitated before he reached the exit, deciding to wrap Deceit’s wrists and ankles in ice, trapping him on the floor. Just in case.

 

Then he turned around, leaving the lab once more. This time, a smile on his face - he had done it. They had done it. Together.

 

Things would be okay.


	15. Welcome Aboard (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan does what he should have done long ago.

One final beam of light shot forth from Deceit’s orb, transforming the last of the dark clouds back to an agent - no, not an agent. None of them were agents anymore, just people. There was something nice about that, just being a person. Someone picked them up after they fell to the floor, carting them off to the medwing with many the others. Those who were awake after the transformation had mostly decided to stay behind, watching Logan work, speaking among themselves about what had happened. A few familiar faces showed up, surprisingly. Moin, Tea, Valerie - all of them had been dark clouds.

 

Well, not anymore.

 

“We should be going, now,” Logan turned to address the small crowd - only four or five people now. “All of you should be checked over for injuries, and all of you deserve an explanation, if you want one. I know I would.”

 

Wordlessly, the small group followed Logan out of the lab, all of them seeming surprised to find themselves in Patton’s office. They attracted little attention in the hallway, though that was likely due to the bigger interest - everyone had apparently regained most of their memories after Deceit had been robbed of his powers. Logan hadn’t really noticed until Roman told him after checking on Virgil and Patton in the medwing.

 

“Took you long enough,” Roman joked as Logan joined him outside Virgil’s room. “They’re both awake, and both uninjured - minus Patton’s concussion, of course, but that’ll heal with time. Virgil’s alright, though he’s rather emotional, and has a bit of a headache.”

 

“But no concussion?”

 

“No concussion, not for Virgil.”

 

“Really?” Logan asked, and Roman nodded, looking amusedly at him. “Well, that’s a pleasant surprise.”

 

The doors swished open and Logan walked inside, his heart panging as he saw Virgil and Patton wrapped in an embrace. Patton noticed him as we walked in, and, sensing Logan’s jealousy almost immediately, he winked at him and stepped aside to let him sit down next to Virgil on the bed. Logan flashed Patton a thankful smile, earning two thumbs up from him as he climbed onto the bed.

 

“Logan, I can’t believe you,” Virgil sniffled, wrapping Logan in a hug. He was very thankful for Virgil having his eyes closed, as he wasn’t sure how the man would react to the bright red of his cheeks or the soft, loving smile that was definitely not on his face. “You’re so incredible, I love you so much-”

 

Logan’s heart froze in his chest, and he wanted to scream when Virgil leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek, because  _ what the fuuuuuuuuu-  _

 

“You’re a real hero, Logan,” Roman smiled, watching Logan completely shut down and Virgil’s displays of affection.

 

“I’m going to get to see my family because of you,” Virgil sighed, pulling away from Logan. He wiped a tear off his cheek, smiling at the others. “I haven’t seen them in so long, guys, I can’t even describe how I feel right now…”

 

“You’re coming back, right?” Patton asked, looking somewhat dejected. “N-not that you have to, of course, you shouldn’t have to come back after being trapped here, that’s not fair.”

 

“Nah, I could never abandon this place,” Virgil shook his head. “I’ve made friends here that are closer than anyone I’ve ever known. I love my dads and all, but I wouldn’t leave this place for the whole world.”

 

“Me neither,” Roman agreed. “We began this organization, and we should be here to see it reborn. I would be happy to stay and help out, Pat.”

 

“Me too,” Logan said, before he could stop himself. Every pair of eyes in the room was on him then, but for some reason, he didn’t really mind. “I want to see my family, of course. I miss them so,  _ so  _ much, and they need to know that I’m alive, that I’m safe. But I want to get to you know you guys better, all of you. I want to learn how to use my powers for good, and help rebuild AfterLife - or whatever it’s called now - and I want to be here with you. If… If you’d have me.”

 

“You’re my hero, Lo-Lo,” Virgil sighed, pulling him into another hug. “We could never say no to you.”

 

“Exactly,” Patton smiled. “We’d love to have you, Logan.”

 

“It sounds marvelous,” Roman declared.

 

“It’d be the best decision of my life,” Virgil smiled.

 

“Not the best,” Logan sighed. “We can save that question for another day.”

 

He pulled Virgil in for a kiss, relaxing as their lips met. Something inside him just clicked, and an odd warmth filled his chest. He heard Roman and Patton freaking out behind him, but all that mattered right then was the two of them, hearts perfectly in synch, just for a moment. They pulled apart, both smiling giddily as they clasped their hands together. For the first time in awhile, everything was okay. Everything was perfect, beautiful, wonderful. And Logan? Logan loved it.

 

“Welcome aboard, Logan,” Virgil squeezed his hand, and Logan smiled wider.

 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Welcome aboard.”


	16. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey has only just begun.

Logan inhaled, a smile spreading on his lips. The wind ruffled his hair, blowing through the leaves on the tree next to him. Virgil leaned against its trunk, staring out at the sunrise. Logan couldn’t quite explain the wistful smile on his boyfriend’s face, but he could sure understand it. Feeling the softness of the ground under him, the uneven patches of grass and hill, real and solid… It was wonderful.

 

“You two should get going if you want to catch the train,” Roman walked up from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Virgil grabbed money for tickets, so no need to worry about that.”

 

“We’ll be on our way soon,” Logan promised, glancing at Virgil. “I just… We just need a moment.”

 

“Understandable,” Roman sat down on the grass, laying down on the hill. “You can’t get this with astral projection,” he sighed. “The smell, the feel… Nothing compares to the real thing.”

 

Logan sat down next to him, running his fingers through the grass. He pulled up a single blade, pinching it between his fingers. He held it up to the sun, flinging it down. It caught in the wind, sailing down the hill through the air.

 

“I feel like my entire life has changed,” Logan realized, hands falling still on the ground. “Just a few months ago, I was a completely different person. I’m not sure who I am now, or what.”

 

“You’re Logan,” Virgil said, sitting between the two. “You’re just Logan. You don’t have to be anything more, not if you don’t want to be.”

 

“I think I like that,” Logan nodded. “Just being me.”

 

“More like being a huge sap,” Roman sighed dramatically, his eyes drifting closed.

 

“We should be leaving soon,” Virgil said after a moment. Logan watched him stand, sun hitting his hair just so, casting him in a beautiful golden glow. He offered a hand, and Logan took it gladly, pulling himself up.

 

“We’ll be back soon, Roman,” Logan called, following Virgil down the hill. Roman gave them a wave, then collapsed back on the hill. The two walked through grassy fields, making their way to the nearby town, back to civilization, long shadows trailing behind them as the sun rose.

 

There would always be shadows behind them, demons in their wake. But there would always be a sunrise, ready to take it all down. There would always be a light, a beacon of hope to break through the darkness. There would always be friends, and smiles, and a path out.

 

And Logan would gladly fight for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope that anyone who made it this far enjoyed the story. It was a lot of fun to write!
> 
> This work was a gift for xx-this-is-a-mess-xx on tumblr as part of the Secret Sanders gift exchange, organized by spectralheartt (also on tumblr). This work can also be found on my tumblr, char-of-the-stars.


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